


...And a Teenage Daughter

by CaptainPeggyCarter21



Series: Steve Rogers Gets a Life [3]
Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Short Film), Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Awesome Peggy Carter, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, BAMF Edwin Jarvis, BAMF Peggy Carter, Blood and Injury, Bucky Barnes Gets a Dog, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Car Accidents, Child Abuse, Cool Uncle Bucky Barnes, Crime Fighting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Member Death, Father Figures, Father-Daughter Relationship, Guilt, Holidays, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Human Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Hurt Tony Stark, Hydra (Marvel), Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Injury Recovery, Jealousy, Kid Tony Stark, Light Angst, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Marriage, Mother-Daughter Relationship, New Year's Eve, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Multiple, POV Original Character, POV Peggy Carter, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Parent Peggy Carter, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent-Child Relationship, Partying, Past Abuse, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Psychological Trauma, Service Dogs, Sneaky Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Soft Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers's Motorcycle, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, Teenage Rebellion, Teenagers, Thanksgiving, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Flirts, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Uncle Bucky Barnes, referenced Stucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 106,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainPeggyCarter21/pseuds/CaptainPeggyCarter21
Summary: After a decade of thinking he’d never be a family man, Steve finally has everything he always wanted, white picket fence and all. It’s 1967; Steve and Peggy have been married for 20 years. But Steve is thrown for a loop when their teenage daughter brings home a new boyfriend.This story takes place in the alternate timeline created when Steve chose to stay in 1945. There will be significant differences in this world and the MCU.





	1. Meet the Family

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little story I've been working on here and there since Endgame came out. I've been writing it in bits and pieces, so I may add some flashback chapters later.  
This is only my second story so feedback is greatly appreciated :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added my sketch of Sam. I'm new to art; honestly surprised how well it turned out. I'm not great with faces and hands yet, but getting there

Steve walks up the sidewalk, excited to be home after a two-week mission. He opens the front door, puzzled to see the hallway light on this late at night.  
“Sam, please talk to me. I just want to help.” Peggy’s voice echoes weakly down the hall.  
As Steve rounds the corner, he sees Peggy sitting on the floor outside Sam’s room, resting her head on the doorjamb. She looks even more exhausted than Steve feels.  
“Rough day?” Steve asks starting down the hallway.  
Peggy barely lifts her head and doesn’t answer, but opens her eyes.  
He holds his hand out to help her up. Once she’s on her feet, he pulls her into a hug. “What happened?”  
She lets out a deep breath. “I don’t even know. She came home from school and locked herself in her room. She was supposed to have a date tonight. I suspect that has something to do with it.”  
He kisses the top of Peggy’s head. “Alright, I’ll take it from here. Go get some rest.”  
As she walks off, Steve calls after her, “Hey, I missed you.”  
“Good,” she smirks, “When you’re done talking to Sam, I’ll see what I can do about that.”  
He lets out a little laugh and takes a deep breath, trying to clear his head.  
He grabs a pencil and notepad from the junk drawer in the kitchen and sits down to sketch a small puppy pawing at a door. It was the same thing he drew when Sam was six and wouldn’t leave her treehouse because the boys wouldn’t let her play Army with them at recess. He brings it down the hallway and slides it under Sam’s door with a soft knock. Then he waits. Just like he has done every time she was upset for the last ten years.  
As more and more time passes by, he leans up against the door. It had been ten minutes; she should’ve opened the door by now. He slides down the wall, until he’s sitting on the floor resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He listens to the clock in the living room tick by five more minutes. It must be bad. She’s never taken this long before.  
Just as he’s beginning to wonder if Sam has fallen asleep, the lock on the door clicks. He jumps up and slowly turns the doorknob.  
“Sam? I’m coming in, honey.” He slowly edges his way into her room.  
She’s already retreated back to her bed, where she’s sitting in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest.  
Steve grabs her sketchbook off the desk as he walks in and holds it out to her. It takes a few moments, but she accepts it.  
He walks back to the desk, grabbing a cup of pencils and a second sketchbook from the bottom drawer. He sits down at the foot of her bed, passes her the cup, and begins to draw silently.  
When he hears a snap, he looks over at Sam who tosses her broken pencil on the floor and grabs another one. Steve watches her closely as she aggressively shades the lion she’d been working on for a week.  
Snap. She tosses another pencil to the side.  
When she reaches for her fifth pencil, Steve grabs her hand and pulls the sketchpad from her lap.  
“I don’t want to talk,” she growls, not looking at him.  
Steve answers softly, “That’s fine, but you’re not just going to sit here and break things. We put a lot of money into your art supplies; you’re not going to destroy them because you had a bad day.”  
She yanks her hand away and sits back in the corner of her bed fuming. Steve continues drawing silently.  
When he hears a faint sniffle, he sets his sketchbook on the floor and scoots up to sit beside her. She immediately leans into him, burying her face in his chest. He wraps his arms around her and gently pulls her in closer.  
“Come here, baby.” He strokes her hair as she cries. “It’ll be alright.”  
After too much time for him to estimate has passed, Sam begins to regain control of her breathing.  
“He said he loved me, daddy,” she whimpers.  
Steve’s heart drops and he pulls her in tighter. “I’m so sorry, baby.”  
“He was supposed to take me out tonight,” she gasps, still in tears, “But this morning, Donna said she saw him sneak out with Karen last night. When I asked him about it at lunch, he said I was too uptight for him.” Her sobbing grows so strong, Steve can barely make out the rest. “We’ve been together for two months, daddy. How could he do that?”  
“I don’t know, baby.” His voice is raw.  
“Why didn’t he just end it with me? How did I miss it?” She takes a deep breath, seeming to reach some kind of realization. “I found a cheerleading skirt in his car three weeks ago. He swore it was his sister’s. God, I’m such an idiot!”  
“No, baby, you just see the good in people.”  
As her crying subsides, she takes a deep breath and asks hoarsely, “Why wasn’t I good enough?”  
“Sam, I don’t think I have to tell you what he was looking for, and that makes you too good for him.” He pushes her away and lifts her chin. “Look at me. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. Understand?”  
She nods, sniffling again and leans back to hug him.  
After several more minutes, she eases her grip. Steve slowly pulls away “You want me to stay longer?”  
Her lips twitch up into the tiniest smile, “No, I’m gonna go make a sandwich.”  
He kisses the top of her head. “I love you.” He walks to the door and pauses, looking around. “And clean your goddamn room.”  
She grins at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks.  
He smiles as he shuts the door behind him. For some reason, hearing Captain America curse always cheers her up.  
He walks down the hallway and opens his own bedroom door. The lamp on Peggy's nightstand is still on even though she's asleep in the middle of the bed. Steve groans. She's wearing his favorite nightgown and her red, silk robe. Her hair is perfect; she had even touched up her makeup.  
He laughs to himself. He'd never understand how he deserved her, but he certainly wasn't one to question a good thing.  
He leans over the bed carefully, trying not to wake her, and kisses under her jaw.  
When she smiles and leans into him, he whispers, "You know what silk does to me."  
She rolls over, looking at him. "Why do you think I’m wearing it?"  
He laughs, "Go back to sleep, gorgeous. I can wait until morning."  
She bites her lip, crawling over to him. "Well, that makes one of us."  
He can't stop himself from beaming. "God, I love you."  
She lets out a quiet yelp when he picks her up. She wraps her legs around his waist. He kisses her, turning around so he can sit on the edge of the bed.  
She pulls away, breathing hard, "I love you too."

In the morning, Peggy rubs her foot on Steve's leg, watching him read the paper. She smiles as she sips her tea. He always scrunches his nose when he finds something unpleasant.  
Sam walks straight past them and into the kitchen.  
Peggy perks up, grateful Sam has finally left her room. "Good morning, love. Feeling any better?"  
"Not particularly, mom. Thanks." Sam bites back. She takes her coffee out to the front porch without another word.  
Peggy lets out a frustrated sigh and lays her head on the table. "What am I doing wrong? I just want her to feel better."  
Steve walks around behind her, gently pulling her back up. He begins rubbing her shoulders. "Who is that boy she's been seeing?"  
"Michael. Why?"  
"He told her he loved her."  
"They've been dating for a couple months, now. That's not terribly odd for sixteen-years old." She rolls her head from side to side.  
"Well, he's been screwing a cheerleader for at least three weeks."  
"Oh." Steve can hear the heartbreak in Peggy’s voice. "My poor baby."  
"He blamed Sam. Called her uptight." After a short pause he added, "Although, I can't say I'm incredibly upset about that."  
"Steve!"  
"It's better than her being loose!"  
"She's clearly in pain."  
"Oh, she can't hear me."  
Peggy cracks a smile, "I suppose you're right."  
Sam spent the rest of the day avoiding them. The only meaningful conversation between the three of them was over dinner. After which, she did the dishes in silence and went to bed.  
As usual, Peggy and Steve are in bed reading, when Peggy says, nearly in tears, “I’m a terrible mother.”  
Steve drops his book and looks at her. “What are you talking about?”  
“I sat outside her door for six hours yesterday. I only left to make her dinner, and she wouldn’t even eat it. And you came home and got her to open that door in less than half an hour. You had the whole story an hour after that. The only thing I’ve done is upset her further.” Tears begin falling over her cheeks.  
She leans into Steve as he pulls her into his chest. “Peg, you are the best mother I’ve ever seen. No one else in history has raised a super-soldier. Ours is not only still alive, but relatively well-adjusted. She’s sixteen. She’s going to be a nightmare from time to time, but that doesn’t make it your fault.”  
She sniffles, “That’s not it. Samantha’s always been a little shit. But this is different, Steve. She’s really upset. Her world is falling apart, and I can’t do anything about it because she won’t talk to me. A mother is supposed to be the first person a girl talks to about boys. I just want to help.”  
She feels Steve playing with her hair as he says softly, “She’s feeling a lot right now. Very strong, very raw emotion. She’s never been through something like this before, and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s not ready for help yet. She doesn’t want to feel better. She needs to hurt for a little while. She has to process everything. That’s what dads are for. Give her a little time. I promise, when she is ready, you’ll be the first person she comes to for help.” She feels the warmth of his kiss on top of her head. “She needs you, Peggy. Probably more than she needs me.”

Sure enough, Sam warms back up over the next few days. Slowly becoming more talkative and acting like her normal self. Then one afternoon, nearly a week after she locked herself in her room, she walks into Peggy’s office at SHIELD.  
“Mom, I can’t do it anymore. I tried to be the better person. I really, really tried. But I see him around school with that slut-face, and I just-” she lets out a low growl, “I’m not dad. I want Michael to hurt. I want to make him bleed, Mom.”  
Peggy raises her eyebrows at “slut-face,” but doesn’t interrupt. She smirks as Sam finishes talking. “I knew I had to be in there somewhere.” She takes a breath, dropping some files on her desk. “Now, I assume you’re speaking metaphorically. Although, I can arrange it either way.”  
Sam laughs, "Emotionally, will be just fine." She takes a deep breath and sinks down onto the couch. "He doesn't even care, Mom. I just want him to be sorry."  
Peggy sits down beside Sam and gently brushes some hair out of Sam's face. "I know, love." She kisses Sam's forehead. "When I get home tonight, I'll show you a few tricks."  
Sam smiles and leans into Peggy. "Thanks, Mom."  
Peggy wraps her arms around Sam. "Of course, love. I would do anything for you."  
They sit there for several moments until Peggy stands up. "Oh, what good is being in charge if you don't take advantage of it?"  
She walks to her desk and picks up the phone. "Rose, I'm not feeling so well. I think I'll go home early." She turns back to Sam, smiling. "I’m going to ignore the fact that you should be in school. Have you had lunch yet, love?"  
After lunch, Peggy takes Sam shopping for a few new outfits that are sure to get Michael's attention. When they get home, they sit down at Peggy's vanity and Peggy gives Sam some tricks to enhance her hair and makeup.

The next morning, Steve and Peggy are sitting at the kitchen table while Sam is getting ready for school.  
Steve takes a sip of coffee. "She's up early."  
Peggy smiles, "She has big plans." She gives Steve a stern look, "You are only to tell her she looks beautiful, if you say anything at all.”  
When Sam finally walks out, she is the spitting image of Peggy in her Rockabilly phase. Sam’s wearing skin-tight leather pants, a stone washed t-shirt, and leather jacket. She has her hair in messy waves and bright red lipstick.  
Steve nearly chokes on his coffee.  
“Excellent choices, love.” Peggy beams at her. “That boy’s not going to know what hit him.”  
Sam looks at Steve expectantly.  
It takes him a moment to regain his composure. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”  
Sam smiles brightly and practically runs out the door.  
Steve looks at Peggy. “What did you do to my daughter?”  
“She’s just looking for a little revenge, Steve. She’ll be fine.”  
Steve stands up abruptly.  
Peggy doesn’t even look up from the mission report in her hand. “You’d better not be planning to surveil our daughter.”  
He sits back down, making Peggy smile.  
“I’m not ready to be a grandfather.” He runs his hands through his hair.  
“Oh, you are so dramatic. It’ll be fine. She’s still Sam.”

Sam bursts through the front door after school and throws her arms around Peggy’s neck. “Mom, you are absolutely brilliant.”  
Peggy looks at Steve wide-eyed and mouths, “What” as she timidly returns Sam’s embrace.  
Steve raises his hands and mouths back, “I don’t know.”  
"You’re home a little late, love."  
Sam's practically bouncing with excitement. "I was hanging out with friends after school, then I got a ride home." She bites her lip nervously then starts grinning again. "On a motorcycle."  
Steve glares at Peggy.  
"Oh my God. I need to fix my makeup." Sam wraps Peggy in another hug before running down the hall.  
Steve and Peggy stare at each other for several long seconds, then Peggy tilts her head looking even more confused. "Wait, Sam, why?"  
As she trails after Sam, there's a knock at the door. Steve opens the door to see a sixteen-year-old Tony Stark with bright red lipstick smudged on his collar standing on the front porch.  
“Son of a-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand in the original timeline, Tony isn't born until 1970. In this universe Steve and Peggy are good friends with the Starks. When Peggy gets pregnant in 1950, Howard and Maria realize they also want to have a child. So, in this AU, Tony is born in 1950/1951.  
Sure, technically it wouldn't be the same person, but it's more fun this way. Plus, there's a good chance he would still have the same name and would likely be very similar in appearance. Also, it would still drive Steve crazy because of the Stark reputation.


	2. Tony Freakin' Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve deals with the realization that his daughter is dating Tony Stark.  
Sam and Tony discuss their relationship.

“No, no, no. Absolutely not.” Steve paces across the kitchen.  
“Steve,” Peggy sits at the kitchen table with her feet propped up in a chair, scanning through a personnel file, “What is the problem? Tony is a lovely young man.”  
“You don’t know the Tony I knew.”  
“I thought you were friends.” She sets the file down and scans over another document. “You spoke so highly of him.”  
“Well, that’s what you do when someone dies saving the universe.” Steve takes a long breath and leans against the kitchen counter, “He wasn’t always a ‘good’ man. He was very much like his father when he was younger.”  
“This isn’t the Tony you knew.” She signs the bottom of the document.  
“He’s still Howard Stark’s son, Peggy. Is that who you want with our daughter?”  
“So you’d like to hold him responsible for the mistakes of his father?” She says in an accusatory tone, picking up another file.  
“Our daughter is alone in her bedroom with a Stark.” Steve’s frustration begins to show. “And you can’t even be bothered to look up from that stupid paperwork.”  
“Steve,” She takes a sip of her tea, “we lost three agents last week. This ‘stupid paperwork’ is the approval for their final awards. There are more important things than Sam getting help with her science homework.”  
She stands and brings her mug to the sink. “If it really bothers you so much, use your super-hearing to eavesdrop.” She teases.  
“I don’t have _super-hearing_,” he mocks back, “It’s just enhanced.”  
“Do you want to know what they’re saying or not?”  
He’s quiet for a moment before he relaxes and takes the clean mug from Peggy, drying it off.  
“That didn’t take long.”  
“They’re talking. I’ll start to worry when they stop.” He jokes.  
“I know you’re worried about her.” She rubs his arm. “I am too, but Tony has been Sam’s best friend for longer than they can remember. Is there really any other boy you would trust more?”  
“This isn’t ‘friends’ anymore.” Steve sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But you’re probably right.”  
She smirks at him. “Of course I am.”  
Steve tenses, crushing the mug in his hand and sending ceramic shards across the kitchen.  
Peggy shields her face with the file she had just picked back up. “Bloody hell!”  
Steve, just as surprised, begins cleaning the mess. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I just…I wasn’t paying attention…I was...sorry.”  
She sits back down, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “I don’t think this working from home thing is going to work for me.”  
He dumps the remains of the mug in the trash, and then saunters over to her. “Oh, but I really like it.” He brushes her hair out of the way and kisses her neck.  
She giggles, pushing him away, “Steve, I have work to do.”

“Sam, pay attention. We have a test tomorrow.”  
“Tony, we’ve been studying for hours.” Sam complains.  
“It‘s been twenty minutes. Maybe.” He rolls his eyes as she crashes back on her bed pretending to be exhausted. “Sit up. I’m not the one who needs help.”  
She sits up and glares at him playfully, “I wouldn’t need help if someone hadn’t convinced me to skip Chemistry and meet him behind the gym today.”  
There’s a loud crash in the kitchen, and Peggy yells “Bloody hell!”  
Tony flushes, smirking. “Well, it wasn’t too hard since you hate the hard sciences.”  
“Yeah, I’m not a nerd like you.” She shoves his arm.  
He doesn’t react. His expression is somewhat tense, and he appears to be lost in thought.  
“Tony? I was just joking.” Sam adds cautiously.  
He looks up and chuckles, “No, I know.” His expression turns thoughtful again. “Sam, I really took a risk asking you to meet me today. I honestly didn’t think you would.”  
“Tony, -”  
“Please don’t interrupt.” His voice is shaky. “Or I may never make it through.” He takes a breath and continues, “But I think it paid off.”  
She smiles silently.  
“So, I would like to take another one, and ask to take you out to dinner on Saturday.”  
Her smile fades, “Tony, I can’t.”  
He looks away disheartened. “We should get back to -”  
“We do family dinner every Saturday, no exceptions. Captain’s orders.”  
He laughs. She’s hated the “Captain America” cliché since middle school.  
She continues, “Can we go out Friday?”  
He grins, “Yeah, I can do Friday.”  
He runs his hands through his hair and his shoulders relax as he starts breathing again. “Do you maybe want to go to the drive-in after?”  
“So, you got into my bed, now you’re trying to get me in the backseat?”  
His whole face turns red. “No, Sam, I didn’t mean…that’s not what… you know I…”  
“You clearly haven’t heard how ‘uptight’ I am,” she jokes gloomily.  
“Hey, forget about that asshole.” He takes her by the chin and looks straight in her eyes. “He’s an idiot.”  
She smiles, studying him. She leans in slowly and kisses him softly. He holds her there for several long moments. It’s a calm, innocent kiss.  
When he finally pulls away, Sam says quietly, “I like that.”  
Tony takes a long breath and lets out a shaky, “Mhmm.”  
Sam giggles quietly, “I’m going to need some food if you’re going to make me study. Do you want anything?  
He thinks for a minute, “Popcorn?”  
“I don’t think that’s really brain food, but it’ll work.”  
Sam walks down the hall and rounds the corner into the kitchen. “Oh, gross.”  
Peggy’s sitting on the counter. Steve is standing in front of her kissing her neck.  
He chuckles and rests his forehead on Peggy’s shoulder. “Why did we have a daughter again?”  
“Dad!”  
Peggy laughs, “Well, it wasn’t on purpose, dear.”  
“_It wasn’t on purpose, dear_.” Sam shoots back mockingly, distorting her face, “The most reckless man and impulsive woman in America accidentally made a kid. Go figure.”  
Steve chuckles again, “Peggy, I think you hurt her feelings.”  
Sam rolls her eyes and retorts with a slight British accent, “You’re both tossers.”  
“Samantha Michelle!” Peggy yells as Steve helps her down.  
Sam grabs a bag of chips from the pantry and walks back to her room.  
“You know you have your own bedroom.” She calls over her shoulder.  
“We have our own house.” Steve yells back.

  
Sam shuts her door behind her.  
“I thought you were making popcorn.” Tony looks at the chips confused  
She groans, “Change of plans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated :)  
Next chapter: Tony's POV and more beloved characters enter the story


	3. What Happened to Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit about Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins a few days before Chapter 1

Tony’s sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed with his feet on the dashboard. “Does Dad know?”

“Not yet.” Jarvis answers softly, “He’s spending the weekend meeting with Congressmen.”

“Right.” Tony shrugs. “His defense contract is up for renewal.”

“I suspect he will ignore your... indiscretions in the women’s dormitories, but your expulsion from the Academy will most certainly upset him, especially when you’re so close to finishing the year.”

“I didn’t want to be there anyway,” Tony shrugs it off and smiles. “Did you miss me, Jarvis?”

“Of course, Master Stark. Just yesterday, Ana and I were discussing how much we hated not having to lock up the Scotch.”

“Well, fear no more. I’m back and better than ever!”

“So it would seem.” His tone is disapproving, but he softens. “Anthony, would you like to stay at our house tonight? We can explain everything to your mother in the morning.”

“Maybe not everything?”

Jarvis sighs, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to leave out a few of the details.”

“Thanks.” Tony’s quiet for a while. “I’m sorry, Jarvis.”

“I appreciate that, Anthony, but I’m afraid that doesn’t change your predicament.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smiles as a thought occurs to him. “So, I’ll have to go back to school here?”

“Yes, I suppose I’ll have to speak with the principal tomorrow.”

“Sam’s going to be so surprised. Don’t tell the Rogers.”

“I hardly see the Rogers anymore. Soon after you went back to the Academy this year, your father began his Congressional wooing. The Stark house has been quite busy.”

“Oh.” Tony’s disappointed that their families hadn’t stayed close. He thought two decades of friendship would’ve been stronger.

Jarvis smiles, “You’ll see her again soon enough. I should be able to arrange for you to start school the day after tomorrow.”

As Tony sits in the principal’s office with Jarvis, he sees Sam walk by in the hallway.

The principal catches Tony watching. “Sam Rogers. She’s on the soccer team, star player, probably the only girl on any team in the country.”

Tony laughs to himself as he imagines the hell Steve raised trying to get permission to add a girl to the roster. He listens to the principal drone on about her.

“Of course, our team has to play with two fewer players. She’s Captain America’s daughter, you know?”

“You don’t say?” Tony acts surprised; apparently this guy has no idea that Tony knows Sam better than anyone. “Wow. Do you think I could meet her real quick?”

The principal straightens up, a look of pride on his face. He steps into the hallway and calls Sam in.

“Tony!” She struggles to keep her voice at an acceptable level, “What are you doing here?”

He lets out an awkward chuckle, “Long story short, today’s my first day.”

The principal reddens slightly. “You two know each other?”

Tony laughs, “My whole life.”

“Do you have your class schedule? I can show you around.” Sam offers.

They both look at the flustered principal who looks through a stack of papers. He pulls one out and hands it to Sam. “Here you go, Miss Rogers. You two can go. I’ll finish the paperwork with Mr. Jarvis.”

Sam leads Tony out of the office, looking to the group she had been with. “Michael, come here.”

As Michael walks over, she looks at Tony’s schedule. “Oh, hey, you have Chemistry with me."

Tony smiles, “Oh, yeah?”

When Michael arrives, Sam smiles and takes his hand comfortably. “Michael, this is Tony. We’re old friends. Maybe we can all go to the diner tonight.”

“Babe, you know I can’t do Thursdays. I have to take my sister to cheerleading practice.” He leans in and kisses her cheek. “I need to get to class, but we’re still on for tomorrow night.”

Tony smiles at Sam before heading to the car. He throws his backpack in the back seat and gets into the passenger seat.

“How was your first day?” Jarvis asks cheerily.

He shrugs, “Sam and I have Chemistry.”

“Yes, well, I’ve always thought so, but no one else seems to see it.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh.. How foolish of me.”

Tony looks at him. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s obvious that there’s something going on, and I’m the foolish one for implying there’s not.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods. “That’s because it’s obvious that there’s something going on.”

Tony laughs, “Okay, Jarvis, if you say so.”

“Samantha has always been at the center of your misadventures.” Jarvis is unamused. “In fact, I remember one time, when you were in kindergarten, you came home saying Sam told you about a glowing cube that had magical powers. I believe you said it was in her father’s stories.”

“A tesseract.” Tony offers.

“Yes, well, you spent half the night painting a shoebox with glow-in-the-dark paint you found in your father’s garage. Then, mysteriously, at school the next day, there was a small explosion.”

Tony chuckles, “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone about that.”

“And I haven’t." He sighs, "I suspect the two of you found some way to get into trouble today?”

Tony smiles, “She’s my best friend. That hasn’t changed.”

“Well, it’s clear that your feelings for her have.”

“No, they haven’t.”

“That’s not the way you smiled at her in kindergarten.” Jarvis smiles, “Or even the day I drove you back to the Academy, for that matter.”

Tony doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive home; he only fidgets with his hands. When they pull into the garage, he looks at Jarvis. “It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s got a guy. They’ve been together forever, and she’s crazy about him.”

Jarvis’s face softens. “Well, that’s another matter entirely.”

Tony hears the crunch of gravel as someone comes around the corner of the building.

“Tony, shit!” Sam gasps, jumping a little. “What the hell are you doing just creeping around back here?!”

“Shut up!” You’re going to get us caught.” He covers her mouth and pulls her behind the gym and out of sight.

“You could have warned -”

Before she can say another word, Tony presses her against the brick wall and kisses her gently, bringing his hands up to her face. To his surprise, she starts running her fingers through his hair. He grabs her waist, kissing down her neck.

Sam buries her face in Tony’s neck, giggling “Tony, stop. That tickles.”

“Sam?”

Sam immediately shoves Tony away. “Michael? What are you -” She stops short when a new girl follows him around the corner. “What? Did Karen get cold on you?”

Michael makes a humming sound. “Something like that.” He glances at Tony, and then steps between them, “But you seem to be warming up.”

Sam takes a step forward and punches Michael square in the nose.

The girl yelps as he stumbles backward, cupping his nose. His face is already covered in blood, his shirt beginning to soak through. His eyes water, and tears start to spill over.

“Fuck,” is all he can manage. He grabs the girl, who’s staring in horror, around the waist and they walk off.

Tony watches him leave, then says, “You wanted to make him jealous, right? That’s why you’re wearing…that.”

Sam nods. “How did you know he would be here?”

“They’re all the same.”

“I am so going to fail that test tomorrow.” She hangs her head.

“How about I give you a ride home and help you study.”

Sam lights up. “That’s perfect. Mom and Dad will be so excited to see you!”


	4. Sneaking Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy go on a mission, leaving Sam home by herself for a few days.

Sam quietly slides open the window she’d spent the last ten minutes unlocking and slips inside. She barely takes a step before she’s hit by what feels like a truck, though she can’t be sure since all she can see in this darkness are blurs of movement. She grunts as she slams into the wall. She grabs onto the wrists that have her shoulders pinned and lifts both feet shoving them into the area she thinks is the attacker’s stomach. As soon as her feet make contact, she hears a gasp and they both fall to the ground.

They grapple on the floor for several minutes. If Sam can just get her legs around him, she’ll have the advantage. After a few more minutes, she wraps her legs around his waist, locking her ankles together. She reaches up, crossing her arms and grabbing his shirt collar. She pulls him down into a choke, but she’s not strong enough to hold it.

Her attacker plants a hand on the ground, pushing away trying to put distance between them, but Sam just pulls in tighter, constricting his airway. He grabs her forearm with his other hand and after a brief struggle, tears her arm away from his collar. Still holding her arm, he sits up and uses his other arm to untangle her legs. As soon as he’s free, Sam tries to sit up. But his hand closes around her neck, shoving her back to the ground. When she feels a knee on her chest, she knows it’s game over.

When bursts of light begin to cloud her vision, she reaches up with her free hand and taps twice on her attacker’s solid left bicep.

“Sam?” The grip on her throat immediately eases and the weight on her chest lifts. “Jesus Christ!”

Sam lays flat on her back coughing, as a light flips on. “Hey, Uncle Bucky.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He runs a shaky hand through his short, dark hair.

“I really thought I had you this time.”

“Get up, kid,” he laughs. “That’s why you train with your mom.”

He reaches down to pull her off the floor. She rubs her throat. “I’m a super-soldier too!”

“Half.” He corrects. “You can’t beat me. You’re not strong enough.”

“Are you ready to go?” Sam asks sharply.

“Yeah, I was just about to go get you. I assume your parents left early?”

She nods. “Safely on their way to meet with MI6. You know Mom would kill you if she knew what we do while they're gone.”

He rolls his eyes, “Look, you deserve a chance to be a teenager. That includes sneaking out. It’s not your fault you ended up with the world’s strongest soldier and history’s finest spy for parents.” Bucky grabs his pistol from the coffee table and slides it into his thigh holster.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I need help with my rebellious phase.” She walks out the front door, then turns to face Bucky as he locks up. “Which reminds me, Tony and I are going out again Saturday night. Think you could come over for dinner and create a distraction afterwards so I can slip out?”

“Yeah, I think I can manage that. I’m just glad you’re finally sneaking out for reasons other than fighting crime.” He takes a breath. “Sam, you two are- you’re…being careful, right?”

“No. Uncle Bucky, we’re not…” she trails off as they turn to leave the house.

“You’re not being careful or you’re not-"

“We don't fuck.” She laughs.

Despite his obvious relief, he says, “You know, it’s normal to want to.”

“We’ve only been dating a month. Our parents don’t even know we’re together yet.”

“Yeah, Steve is going flip.”

She laughs. “Exactly. We’re in no rush.”

He smiles, “And that’s great. It really is. But one day, things are going to change, and your parents are not likely to react reasonably.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, they’re going to try every play in the book to make sure you don’t. I just want you to-"

“Be a teenager?” She chuckles.

“Or a twenty-something college student. That’d be alright too.” He’s quiet for a minute. “Thirty."

Sam lets out a big laugh. “Alright, don’t get carried away.”

“Fine,” he chuckles. “You’re on your own tonight. I’m only going to jump in if you get yourself screwed.”

“Do the job. Don’t get screwed,” she smiles, “Got it.”

“That is exactly why I don’t let you have a gun.” Bucky says, helping Sam limp up the sidewalk to her front door.

“If I’d had a gun, this wouldn’t have happened!” Sam answers as she unlocks the door.

“I am very confident that is not true. You’re just lucky I was there.”

“You got me shot!” She opens the door, and turns to deactivate the alarm, but it doesn’t sound off.

“I got you shot?! You had nothing to do with that then? You didn’t decide to try and take the-”

“Tony?” They both look at Tony who just jumped up from the couch.

“You got shot?!” His eyes are wide with panic; clearly, he had heard the whole conversation.

“Tony, what are you doing here?” Bucky asks gruffly.

He was so shaken, he didn’t even bother to come up with a cover story. “I came over to see if Sam wanted to go out while her parents were gone. You got shot?!”

Bucky laughs, “That’s adorable.”

“Tony, if you had told me, I wouldn’t have planned to go out with Bucky tonight.” Sam adds calmly.

Tony takes a deep breath. “You got shot!” It's no longer a question.

Sam and Bucky look at each other, then Sam answers, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re…you’re fine. You just got shot…and it doesn’t bother you.”

“I mean, it hurt like a bitch, but it was just a flesh wound.” She jerks her head in Bucky’s direction. “Buck dug the bullet out of my thigh and wrapped it for me. See? I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Tony runs his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths. “You got shot. It’s fine. You were just…what were you doing?”

She shrugs. “Saving the world?”

Bucky laughs. “Sure! If street thugs and cat burglars are the next global threat.” He looks between the two teenagers. “Do I need to stick around and keep an eye on you two?”

Tony stutters a few times, wanting say no, but not wanting to give Bucky the wrong impression.

“No, Uncle Bucky. We’ll be fine." Sam replies, chuckling at Tony’s reaction.

“Alright, I’ll see you Saturday, kid.” With that, he turns around and walks out the door.

Sam looks back to Tony. “How did you get in?”

He sighs, “Sam, I helped my dad design your security system. Don’t you think I know my way around it?”

She laughs.

“Besides, it was intended more to keep you in than to keep others out. That’s what your caseworker wanted, remember?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Right. He _just wants to keep me safe_.” She raises the pitch of her voice, mocking the caseworker.

“You’re probably the safest kid in the world,” he chuckles. “The irony is I’m fairly certain Child Protective Services was established entirely because of your family.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Sam, you have a bullet hole in your leg. Your parents regularly beat the crap out of you in training. And you have a dedicated, full-time caseworker who checks in on you every other week.”

“Oh, no, it’s only once a month now.” She beams. “We’ve been good.”

“You should be so proud,” he laughs. "So, I go to boarding school and this is what you do? Run headfirst into danger?"

"Yes, because you've never accidentally blown us both up with your little experiments." She retorts sarcastically.

"One time, Sam. One time!"

"Twice."

"Kindergarten doesn't count. That one didn't even start a fire."

"That's still more times than I've been in an explosion for any other reason."

He puts his arm around her, and she leans into his chest. Her eyes close, and she smiles, enjoying the calmness in the house.

"I want to go with you." Tony breaks the silence.

"What?" Sam sits up and faces him.

"I want to 'save the world' too."

"Absolutely not. You'll get yourself killed."

"Oh, and you won't?"

"I'm half super-soldier. I'm far less likely to die."

"You're also half average human. You're not as indestructible as you think."

"It doesn't matter. Tony, the answer is no. Not only would Bucky flip his shit, I wouldn't be able to focus if you were there. We'd both get killed."

Tony doesn't respond. He reaches out and pulls her back into his chest. He turns on the TV, and Sam nestles into him. They stay curled up like that for a couple hours, watching TV. Sam asks Tony about his day, but he seems distant. So, she just relaxes into his warm body and enjoys the time they have alone together before Tony has to leave.

The next morning on the way to school, Tony pulls out a list. "Jarvis, I need your help with a project this weekend. Do you think you could pick a few things up while I'm at school today?"

"Of course, Anthony." Jarvis smiles, broadly. He always enjoys spending extra time with Tony.

Tony hands him the list as he gets out of the car and pulls his backpack over his shoulder. "Thanks, Jarvis."

Sam is chasing a cat burglar down the street; Bucky had finally let her go out alone and she screwed it up. It was supposed to be easy; she was waiting outside. All she had to do was grab the guy, but she made her move too early and blew her cover.

"Sam, everything alright?" Bucky's voice crackles in her ear.

"I should not have worn new shoes tonight." She pants, her feet aching. She hears Bucky laughing in her earpiece. "Oh, fuck you."

The burglar turns down an alley, and seconds later, Sam follows. As she starts down the alley, she hears a whining sound behind her. She's too focused to look back, but she swears it sounds like something charging up. The burglar is on the second flight of a fire escape, and Sam's about halfway down the alley, when a flash of lights blinds her. The dumpster at the end of the alley explodes, throwing Sam to the ground and knocking the burglar off the ladder and back onto the second-floor landing.

"Shit!" Sam yells hitting the pavement hard.

"Sam, you okay?" Bucky asks urgently.

She stands up, facing the entrance to the alley now. She must be hallucinating because she sees a man made of metal walking toward her. "What the fuck?"

"Sam, talk to me. What's happening?"

Her ears are still ringing, but he sounds kind of like... The metal man reaches up with his right hand, removing his face plate.

"Tony?" Sam says, tapping a button on her earpiece to mute her microphone. "What the hell are you thinking?! No, don't answer. I know what you were thinking. You were _thinking_ that you were helping, but you're not. You're only getting in my way. I would've had him in handcuffs by now if you hadn't just blown out three of my senses."

"Sam, what the hell is going on? If you don't answer me in the next three seconds, I'm coming to get you!" Bucky is yelling now.

She taps her earpiece again, "Calm down, princess. I'm fine. Just a little snafu, but I handled it." She mutes the microphone again.

Sam looks back at the fire escape. The burglar has already recovered and is almost to the roof. "Since you're here, and I take it you're not leaving, I could use a lift to the roof."

"You just assume this thing flies?" Tony asks incredulously.

"You always had a flare for the dramatic." She states dryly.

"It's not dramatic. It's practical." He pulls her into his side before taking off.

Just as Tony's preparing to land, one of his thrusters shorts out. He drops Sam onto the roof from ten feet above before he crashes down beside her. Both tumble across the rooftop.

"Shit." Tony grunts as he skids to a stop.

Sam rolls out of her crash-landing with a series of expletives. She's grateful the mic is still muted, otherwise Bucky would be on his way. The moment he saw Tony, her little adventures would be over. She runs to the top of the fire escape just as the burglar reaches the top rung on the ladder.

"Need a hand?" She smirks.

Just as Sam predicted, he releases the ladder to jump back down. She grabs his collar before he falls. She reaches down with her other hand and grabs his bicep before he can wriggle out of his shirt.

She carefully hauls him over the edge of the roof and pulls his hands behind his back. She slaps a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and takes a step back, turning her mic on.

"I got him. We're ready for extraction."

She taps the mute button again and glares at Tony.

"You said I couldn't come because I'd get hurt." He shrugs, "So me and Jarvis fixed that."

Her face softens into a smile. "Bulletproof?"

"Hopefully."

"You didn't test it?" Her voice is full of alarm.

"That wasn't evident in the crash landing?"

"What the hell?! You just ran in here thinking 'I hope this works!' God damn, Tony. Just when I think you can't get any more reckless." She storms off and then turns back around. "Don't make any plans tomorrow. We're testing that rust bucket before you kill yourself in it. Now get the fuck out of here before Bucky shows up and kills us both."

The next day, Sam and Tony are standing in her parents’ bedroom looking at their gun safe.

“You ever seen anything like this?” She asks.

“Nope. Must be my dad’s design.”

They look at each other, thinking through their options.

“We could-”

“Tony, we are not blowing it up.”

“Well, what’s your genius idea?”

“You’re telling me that your dad doesn’t have any fancy safe-cracking gadgets?”

“Not for safes he made to be uncrackable.” Tony shakes his head.

“I hate your father.”

“Yeah, me too, but that’s a different story.” Tony chuckles. “We could just try guessing the combination.”

“You don’t think it requires a fingerprint or retina scan or something?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t see any sensors. We might as well try.” He leans forward, touching the lock. “What’s your dad’s birthday?”

“July 4, 1917.” Sam rolls her eyes. “Wait, no, 1918.”

Tony shakes his head. He tries again. “Not yours either.”

Sam lights up. “You said your dad made this right? What if he chose the code, too?” She trails off and pushes Tony out of the way.

She gives it a few tries, then pulls the door open.

“How did you figure that out?” Tony doesn’t even try to hide his surprise.

“It was my mom’s measurements.” She rolls her eyes, grabbing a pistol. “Now, let’s go back to your dad’s garage and blow some stuff up.”

Two hours later, they’re in Howard’s home lab with the Iron Man suit in pieces undergoing different tests.

“So far, it’s been bullet proof, fireproof, and fairly water resistant. I wish we could actually try to blow it up.” Sam pouts.

“I’ll also be safe in a lightning storm. Or if I crash into some power lines.”

“It can handle hand to hand combat just fine.” Sam shakes out her right hand. “At least, as long as they’re not stronger than I am.”

“I think we should test out the flight capabilities again.”

Sam nods in agreement, gathering the pieces of the suit. Tony starts assembling the parts around his legs. Sam helps with the chest piece. When he’s got about half the suit on, Jarvis opens the door, making them jump.

“Your parents are back from Long Island.”

Tony and Sam share a glance, “Shit.”

“Thanks, Mr. Jarvis.” Sam says as she and Tony begin tearing the armor off.

“Your parents cannot know about this.”

Sam glares at him. “You think?!” She begins tossing the pieces under a worktable.

As Tony pulls the last parts off, Sam grabs a tarp from the corner.

Steve and Howard walk down the basement stairs together.

“Really, Howard, it was a wonderful weekend. Peggy and I enjoyed ourselves.”

“I’m glad we got to spend time together. I know Maria really missed Peg. I was so busy with my defense contract, I had no leisure time.”

Steve laughs, “Peggy’s had a rough time at work lately too. She really needed to get away.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Howard opens the door to his lab. “I’ve been wanting to show you-”

Sam and Tony are making out against the back wall. Tony has his back against the wall, hands on Sam’s hips pulling her close. Sam has one hand on the back of Tony’s neck and the other in his hair. They jump apart just a minute after Howard opens the door.

Howard smirks at Tony and shakes his head lightheartedly. Steve lets out a low growl and storms back up the stairs. There’s a loud thud before Steve returns.

“I’ll fix your wall tomorrow.” He grunts, pushing past Howard. He grabs Sam by the arm and drags her out, yelling up the stairs, “Peggy! This is your fault!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always appreciated :)  
More Howard Stark, Steggy, Bucky, and Steve coping with the "Stark situation" in the upcoming chapters as Tony and Sam start dating openly


	5. Home Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Tony's date night doesn't go as planned

“I just don’t understand why Mr. Jarvis has to come on our date.” Sam leans over, whispering to Tony.

“It’s your dad’s rule. We have to be chaperoned.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “It’s ridiculous. We’re practically adults.”

Tony wraps an arm around Sam’s shoulder and plants a kiss on her cheek, changing the subject. “Great night for a ball game. The sun is just starting to set. Soon the stadium lights will come on. It’s perfect.”

“Seats are great too.” Sam takes a handful of popcorn, admiring their first-row view of the third base line. “Now, if only it were a great ball game.”

Tony glances over his shoulder at the Jarvises seated behind them. “Want to make it more interesting?”

Sam raises an eyebrow, looking over the rim of her sunglasses. “Go on.”

He lowers his voice, “I bet you can’t steal the shortstop’s hat.”

A wide grin spreads across Sam’s face, then fades. “And what about Mr. Proper Pants back there?”

Tony laughs, “I happen to know for a fact you can outrun him.”

“Alright.” Sam considers, “What do I get if I win?”

“I’ll tell your dad it was my idea.”

“Oh, no,” Sam chuckles, “Nobody wins that way.”

“Fine.” Tony pauses in thought. “Winner picks dessert on our next date.”

Sam leans back in her seat. “Do I have to get it all the way out of the park or just off his head?”

“All the way out.”

“And all I get is dessert?!”

“Fine, you can pick the movie too.”

“Well, that’s hardly a win, since we never watch the movie anyway.” She smirks, taking another handful of popcorn.

“So, pick a movie I like.”

“Alright. Deal.”

She settles in against Tony’s shoulder and takes the box of popcorn. He pulls her in closer and rests his other hand on her knee, and they continue discussing the game.

After another inning and a half, Sam hands Tony the empty popcorn box, smiling mischievously. She stands up and stretches, then makes her way to the aisle. She smiles back at Tony, sneaking a quick glance at the Jarvises. Then she spins around and runs toward the field. She vaults over the half wall separating the field and the stands, then keeps running.

“Oh dear.” Jarvis rises from his seat to get a better view. “Anthony, did you know she was going to do that?”

Ana giggles in her seat as Sam snatches the cap off one of the players’ heads. “She’s really quite fast.”

Tony snickers, standing up as security enters the field. “Watch out, Sam!”

She quickly looks around and takes off in the most open direction: towards the outfield.

“What on earth was she thinking?” Jarvis mutters absently.

“I know. She’ll never make it over the outfield wall.” Tony answers disappointed. “I kind of wanted her to win this one.”

“She’s just a teenager, Edwin.” Ana smacks his arm playfully.

He looks at her in shock, “Would you say that if it were our teenager out there?”

“Oh, she might as well be.” She stands suddenly. “Run, Samantha! You can make it!”

It doesn’t take long for half the crowd to start cheering Sam on as she expertly zigs and zags her way around players and security guards. The whole stadium, players included, roars with applause and laughter when she slides across home plate. Security closes in on her, but she’s up in a heartbeat and darts away. She continues sprinting as she searches for an exit that’s not blocked. She’s been on the field for nearly seven minutes when she stumbles over her own feet. She easily rolls into a somersault and keeps running, but it slows her down enough for one guard to get in range.

A loud, quick crackle of electricity cuts the air, silencing Tony, Ana, and the rest of the crowd. Jarvis watches the whole scene through his fingers. One giant convulsion tears through Sam’s body as all her muscles contract, and she slowly crumples to the ground.

Both Jarvises stare, mouths agape in shock.

Tony gasps loudly, then half chuckles, “Oh, she’s going to be pissed.”

Jarvis pats Tony’s shoulder. “I believe you owe Mr. Rogers a phone call.” He leads Ana, still in shock, into the aisle. Tony follows silently.

“This really isn’t necessary.” Sam rattles the chain link cage in the security office with a jangle. “I’m just a kid.”

“Just protocol, sweetheart.” A heavyset security officer sits with his feet on the only desk in the room reading a newspaper.

Sam rolls her eyes and slumps onto the wall-mounted bench. “You know, I have a name.”

“Don’t care.” He turns up the TV on his desk, and the game commentators drown Sam out.

She huffs, crossing her arms. “I almost made it.”

She’s settled into the back corner of the cage with her back against the wall and her legs stretched out on the bench watching the game by the time the office door opens again.

“Come on, Jarvis. Will you please make the call?” Tony walks inside, shoulders slumped.

“No, Anthony, you have more than earned the privilege of telling Steve that his daughter has been detained.” Ana and Jarvis trail behind Tony.

Tony sighs heavily, walking up to the security guard. “Can I use the phone, please?”

Sam strolls over to the edge of her cell, arms still crossed. “Took you long enough.”

“Yes, well I wasn’t in any particular hurry. Hungry?” He holds out a bag of peanuts.

Sam just scowls at him.

Ana gives her a sympathetic look. “How are you, dear?”

“You can tell Mr. Stark his new 'lightning guns’ are highly effective.” She rubs her right shoulder blade gently. “But I’m fine now, Mrs. Jarvis. Thank you.”

Tony wanders over, dragging his feet. “Your dad’s on his way to pick you up.”

Sam’s smile fades. “Oh, crap.” She turns around and sits on the floor, leaning her back against the cage.

“Yeah.” Tony groans, mirroring Sam’s position.

The Jarvises find seats against the wall. Ana nestles comfortably into Edwin’s chest as they watch the game on the small TV. All five of them sit mostly still. Sam fidgets nervously with her fingers and Tony stretches his legs from time to time.

Thirty minutes later, the room is still and silent when Steve slams the door open and marches in. Sam jumps to her feet, spinning around. Tony’s only a beat behind her.

Steve walks straight up to the guard at the desk. “I’d like to take my daughter home.”

The guard groans as he removes his feet from the desk and looks at Steve, holding out his hand. “ID.”

Steve rolls his eyes and pulls out his wallet. The guard examines Steve’s license for several seconds before giving it back with a grunt. He stands and makes his way over to the cage, fumbling with a ring of keys.

“You’re lucky Howard asked me to beta-test the prototype for a portable telephone.” He folds his arms.

“What? Why didn’t I get one?”

“She asks from inside a holding cell.” Steve rolls his eyes. 

When the cage door swings open, Sam walks out slowly staring at the ground. She can feel Steve’s heavy gaze burning holes through her.

“Edwin, take Tony home.” Steve’s stone cold glare doesn’t waiver.

Sam slowly raises her eyes to look at Steve. He’s wearing wing tips and has taken a wide-legged stance. His arms are crossed and the shoulder pads in his suit jacket make his figure even more imposing. She doesn’t even want to look at his face and the infamous “eyebrows of disappointment,” as Peggy calls them.

After Tony and the Jarvises are long gone, Sam walks out the door, Steve close behind.

“You smell good.” She mumbles, following Steve to the car.

As they make their way through the stadium exit, Sam breaks the heavy silence, “I was just-”

“Don’t.” He sounds tired. “Sam, I honestly don’t even have a lecture for you. So, just don’t start.”

After a few more steps, Steve continues, “When Tony called, I almost didn’t believe him. I was in disbelief the entire drive over. Doubted the whole thing until I actually saw you. My daughter was locked in Yankee’s jail.” He lets out a quiet chuckle as he shakes his head.

“Certainly, there must have been a mistake. I know my daughter, and she would never be so reckless. But sure enough, you’re right there on video. I’m sure that’ll make headlines tomorrow. ‘Captain America’s Daughter Banned from Yankee Stadium.’”

“That was pretty damn decent for not having a lecture.” Sam mumbles sarcastically.

He glares at her sideways as he opens the back door for her. “What got into you?”

“You brought Mom?” Sam slumps into the back seat, ignoring Steve’s question.

“Well, if it isn’t my little delinquent.” Peggy smiles back at Sam.

“No, Sam, we were already out.” He sits behind the wheel and looks at Sam in the mirror. “Grounded. Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?! It was just a joke.” Sam almost jumps out of her seat in protest.

“A joke that ruined the night for six people, four of which weren’t even involved. You know, Mom and I were on our way to dinner? We had to cancel the reservation we made a month ago. I’m sure the Jarvises were looking forward to a nice night out. And I’m quite certain this isn’t how Tony pictured tonight ending.” Steve scowls.

“Dad, I didn’t think-”

“I noticed.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Sam, you have to learn that your choices affect other people.”

“You and Mom can still go out after you drop me off. Maybe not to that fancy place, but still.”

“No, we can’t. Because clearly, we can’t trust you to do the right thing. So, at least one of us has to stay home with you.”

Sam sinks further into the seat. She looks down at her hands, massaging one of her palms.

Peggy takes Steve’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “I’m sorry about dinner, love. I know how much you’ve been wanting to try that place.”

Steve smiles at her. “There’s always next month, right?”

“I’ll call and make the reservation as soon as we get home.” She kisses the back of his hand again.

“How did I get this lucky?” He laughs, glancing at Peggy. “I have the two most beautiful women in the world.”

Peggy reaches up and brushes her fingers along his cheekbone.

He glances at Sam in the mirror. “Even if one of them is a huge pain in my ass.” He leans toward Peggy, “She gets that from you, you know?”

“Yes, because I’m the only one who knows how to have fun,” she quips.

“Oh, I can have fun.”

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me later.”

Sam scrunches her nose and groans, “I’m right here, you know.”

“Well, we wouldn’t be if you hadn’t royally mucked up tonight. So, you can sit quietly.” Peggy replies coolly.

As they walk into the house, Steve kisses Peggy on the cheek and says, “I’m going to go for a run.”

“And then a shower after?” Peggy asks, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

Sam groans and drops on to the couch, rubbing her temples.

Steve steps closer and grabs Peggy’s waist. “You’re making me want to skip my run.”

“Please stop.” She looks up at them. “I’m begging you.”

Steve laughs and reluctantly leaves to change.

Peggy sits on the couch beside Sam. “Dad’s right you know. About making choices.” She tucks Sam’s hair behind her ear. “The older you get, the more responsibility you’ll have. You have to consider the consequences for everyone, not just yourself. Sure, this time it was only dinner, but that won’t always be the case.”

Sam sighs, leaning into Peggy. “I know.”

“You’re going to make bad decisions. Own them, then learn from them.”

Sam looks at her hands. “I’m sorry I ruined your date night.”

Steve walks back through the living room and waves. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes or so.”

When the door shuts behind him, Sam sits up straight and reaches down the front of her shirt.

Peggy looks at her surprised. “I’m not sure what’s happening here, love.”

Sam pulls out a folded-up New York Yankees baseball hat and hands it to Peggy, beaming. “I won.”

Peggy bursts into laughter taking the hat. “You made a bet with Tony?” It was as much a statement as a question.

“I get to pick the next movie and dessert.”

Peggy smiles, memories dancing behind her eyes. “Back in finishing school, I broke into the headmaster’s home on a dare. I was halfway out a window with a bottle of brandy in one hand and his wife’s bloomers in the other when the groundskeeper spotted me.”

Sam stifles a laugh.

“I scrubbed the bathroom floors for a month.” Peggy grins, nudging Sam with her shoulder. “Oh, but I was a legend.”

Sam can’t contain her laughter any longer. “Director Rogers was the class troublemaker!”

“Yes, well, we were all sixteen once.” Peggy comments, joining in Sam’s amusement.

When they both calm down, Sam asks, wiping tears from her eyes, “So, Tony can come over for dinner on Saturday?”

“No, love, you’re grounded.” Peggy stands up, smiling. “Two weeks, remember?”

Later that week:

Steve and Peggy have gone to bed. Sam walks down the hallway in her pajamas, toweling her hair off. She opens her bedroom door and Tony is sitting on her bed with papers spread out in front of him.

Startled, she quickly shuts her door behind her and whispers angrily, “What are you doing? If Dad finds out- oh my, God.”

“Calm down. No one saw me,” he chuckles, “You want to get out of the little league?”

“What are you talking about?”

He pats the bed beside him. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

She drapes the towel over the chair at her desk, then sits down on her bed. “What is all this?” She picks up a newspaper article and scans the other documents in front of her.

“Harrison Davenport.”

“The art thief?”

“Not just art, but yes. He’s also fond of jewelry, historical artifacts, basically, anything priceless.”

“Right.” Sam skims through the article about Davenport’s most recent theft.

As she picks up a few flyers for local museums, Tony continues, “My dad got word that he landed in New York a few days ago.”

“And you want to find out what he’s going to steal?”

“That was the plan, yes.” He smirks.

“Not gonna happen.” Sam says flatly.

Tony opens his mouth to protest, but Sam cuts him off. “The reason he’s so good is because no one knows what he wants. We know where he is. But, like you said, he’s after anything money can’t buy. There’s a lot of that around here.”

“Come on. Your mom’s one of the best strategists the Army’s ever known. You’re telling me you didn’t get any of that?” Tony teases, shoving her shoulder lightly.

Sam looks across all the papers again. “It doesn’t really matter what he’s stealing if we can be at the right museum.” She picks up the museum flyers, chewing on her cheek. “I’d be willing to bet it’s not the Natural History Museum. My guess is The Met, but Guggenheim is fairly new, for a museum, so it poses a brand-new challenge for him.”

Tony nods. “Do we stake out both? They’re not too far apart.”

Sam shakes her head curtly and crosses her arms. “We’re not that good. We need to pick one and stick to it. Either we’re right or we’re wrong.”

Tony walks to Sam’s desk and picks up a quarter. “Heads, The Met. Tails, Guggenheim?”

Sam laughs, “Works for me.”

There’s a knock on the door. “Sam, is everything alright? It’s kind of late.” Peggy’s voice is muffled by the door.

“Yeah, mom. Just trying to study a little more. I’ll go to bed soon, promise.”

“Okay, love. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

“Tony, dear, I’ll be back in five minutes to discuss extending Sam’s grounding. You’d better be gone.”

Sam looks at Tony, panic in her eyes.

Tony struggles to contain his laughter. “Your mom is kind of incredible.”

Sam rolls her eyes.

He holds up the quarter. “It was heads.”

“Good, now go! We’ll talk at school tomorrow.” She shoves him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with me so far! I wrote a one-shot for this series too. If you're interested in Steve and Peggy's relationship when Sam was a young, give that a read. Warning: it is not as light-hearted as this story, so be prepared.  
Comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated! Let me know if there's anything you guys want to read about


	6. Triple Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Sam and Tony adventures, a little Steggy, and quite a bit of Jarvis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little long, sorry. But I think it's a fun one, I hope you like it.

“Sam, we’ve staked this place out every night this week. I don’t think he’s coming.” Tony paces in the alley across from the museum.

“If he’s not here tonight, it doesn’t really matter,” Sam huffs, leaning against the wall, “My parents are coming home tomorrow, so the chances of me sneaking out successfully are very low.”

“I wouldn’t have made it through middle school if I had your parents,” Tony laughs.

Sam is about to make a snide remark when a flash of light in a window across the street catches her eye. “Tony.” She nods her head in the direction of The Met.

“Hey, Jarvis, you got those floorplans in front of you?”

“Just one moment, Mr. Stark. I have to walk to the study.” His voice crackles in Tony’s helmet and Sam’s earpiece. “Alright, how can I be of assistance?”

“Which exhibits are on the third floor?”

“Let me see.” Tony and Sam can hear the rustling of paper. “The Egypt room, arms and armor, and Greek and Roman art.”

“Tony, it doesn’t matter what’s in there.” Sam snarks, “Mr. Jarvis, how many exits on the third floor?”

“Three. Two fire escapes and the main staircase. Four, if you count the elevator.”

“No roof access?”

“I don’t see any on this floor plan.” He trails off, “Let me get the original blueprints Anthony pulled.”

Sam shoots him a glare.

“I wanted to be thorough.” Tony quips back.

“Actually, Miss Rogers, it appears there is a roof access through the maintenance closet.”

Sam nods. “Tony, you take the roof. I’ll cover the fire escapes. You see anything, you let me know.”

They cross the street together quickly. Then Tony launches into the air and Sam sprints around the building. There is a wall at the end of the alley blocking Sam’s way. She takes a running start and jumps toward the wall, propelling herself off the ground with one foot. She pushes herself farther up the wall with the other foot, grabbing the top edge as soon as she can reach it. She’s breathing heavily by the time she pulls herself up and drops to the other side. She gently rotates her ankle before continuing around the building; she hit the wall harder than she intended.

“Jarvis, do we have a layout of the perimeter?”

Papers rustle in the background. “No, Miss Rogers, I don’t see one.”

“Let’s make a note to get those next time.” She groans, her ankle aching more with every pounding step.

“Samantha, I much prefer to be left out of your nighttime escapades with Anthony. I’m still not entirely sure how I got dragged into this one.”

“Trust me Mr. Jarvis, we have no intentions of including you in our _escapades_.” Sam and Tony both laugh as they can practically hear Jarvis’s look of disappointment. “This is just a little adventure.”

Sam watches the two fire escapes silently, expecting to hear Tony alert her to Davenport’s presence.

“Sam, did you fall asleep down there?” Tony’s voice startles her.

“You haven’t seen him either, then?” She humors him with a chuckle.

“Negative, Cap Junior.”

“Tony, no.”

Jarvis groans, “I agree. Keep working on it.”

“You’re sure there were no other exits, J?” Tony ignores the criticisms.

“Quite.”

“Mr. Stark has a copy of the city infrastructure, right?” Sam chimes in.

“Yes, Miss Rogers. Why?”

“Do any storm drains run under the museum?”

“Oh,” Jarvis pauses, “Let me see.”

“Oh, crap.” Tony mutters, “Sam, I’m coming down to meet you.”

“Good. We’ve got to get inside.”

By the time Tony lands on the ground, Sam has already picked the lock on the back door. “Hopefully, the security system is still disarmed.”

Together they ease through the door. Sam keeps a hand on her ‘lightning gun.’ The museum is still, quiet, and dark. No signs of movement can be seen anywhere.

Tony shines a light from his palm. “I don’t see or hear him anywhere. What about you supergirl?”

Tony can tell from Sam’s silence that she’s rolling her eyes at him.

She continues walking. Tony sweeps his light back and forth, illuminating the room as they go.

“Tony, over here.” She walks toward the corner.

Tony follows closely. As they approach, they notice rubble on the ground. Tony lets out a low whistle when he sees the hole in the floor. It's big enough to fit a grown man, easily.

Sam perks up, looking around. “We have to go.”

“Down there?”

“No.” As Sam is answering, police sirens begin to whine in the distance, quickly growing louder. “The cops are going to go that way.” She runs back toward the back door.

Tony follows, unnerved. “You must have tripped some kind of silent alarm.”

“Oh, it must have been me?” She scowls at him.

“You opened the door.”

Sam curses as they sprint into the alley and she faces the wall again. “Tony, can I get a lift?”

He grabs her around the waist and takes off, maneuvering carefully over the wall. When he sets her down, he smirks. “Much smoother than last time.”

The sirens are almost on top of them now. “No way we get out of here without drawing attention.” Sam observes.

They both look around. “J, any ideas?”

“Not at present.”

Sam runs to a sedan parallel parked near the alley and pulls on the handle. She lets out a quiet yelp when the back door opens. “What are the odds? Get in and take your helmet off.”

Tony follows her orders, surprised and slightly confused. She doesn’t wait for Tony to settle in before she climbs in behind him. When he turns to ask her what’s happening, she shoves him back so he’s half laying across the seat.

“Wha-"

Before he can get another word out, she’s on top of him, kissing him energetically. “Put your hands up my shirt.”

Tony nearly chokes. “What?”

“Now would be a very good time to mute your microphones." Jarvis grumbles in Sam’s ear, startling her.

Sam rolls her eyes at Tony and taps her fingernails against the arm piece of his suit. “We have to hide as much of this as possible.”

“Right. Okay.” Tony closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before running his fingers up Sam's back. "I can handle this."

Sam kisses him again, covering as much of his body as she can with her own. Tony kisses down her neck and she giggles loudly.

When a light shines through the window, Sam looks up wide-eyed and chews on her lip sheepishly. Before she can say anything, the officer turns away and the light fades. “Hey, Charlie, it’s just a couple of kids!”

Sam and Tony look at each other and burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Tony gasps, “So are we just going to make out every time we’re going to get caught? Not- not that I’m complaining.”

Sam shrugs. “Everyone’s hiding something. Deception 101: hide your secrets under the secrets people expect to find. This is what normal teenagers hide. So, when Mom or Dad or the cops come looking, we give them what they want and they don’t ask questions.”

“Careful. Your Carter's showing,” Tony grins.

Sam chuckles quietly before refocusing. “Okay. Let’s go. They should be focused enough on the museum that they won’t notice your suit.”

Sam climbs out of the car and looks back at Tony.

"Yeah," he grunts, "I'm going to need a minute."

Sam looks at Tony with furrowed brows, then chuckles. "Oh. Sorry."

Sam stands outside the car, inspecting her fingernails. When Tony rejoins her, they begin making their way down the street.

“Just for the record, I would very much like to try that again on a regular date. Without all …this." He gestures to his armor.

“That’s quite enough from you, Anthony.” He can hear Jarvis glaring.

Sam snickers and they continue their walk in silence.

“Hey, Tony.” Sam nods toward a dark figure with a briefcase walking in front of them. “Mr. Jarvis, what’s the nearest transportation out of the city?”

Sam and Tony both hear rustling papers and Jarvis muttering to himself. “Ah, there’s a bus station right around the corner. But, if I were evading the authorities, I’d take a boat across the bay and into New Jersey.”

“Mr. Jarvis, that’s a brilliant plan.” Sam smiles at Tony. “We’re back in the game.”

She makes a hard left and takes off running. Tony launches into the air and follows her.

“So, the tunnel was a diversion. Clever bastard," Tony mumbles.

“Yeah, well he’s about to be taken down by a couple of kids.” Sam breaks into a full sprint.

“J, if you had to guess, what kind of boat should we be looking for?”

“It’s hard to say. Something small, like your father’s Speedship. Fifteen, sixteen feet.”

As the coast comes into view, Tony banks right. “Sam, you go south. I’ll go North. Let me know if you see anything.”

“You giving orders now, Captain?” Sam teases as she pivots to the left.

“I could get used to that.”

“Anthony, I said enough,” Jarvis scolds.

“Sorry. I just keep forgetting you’re there.”

“Mr. Jarvis, would it help to know that he’s all talk?” Sam laughs mockingly.

“It would not,” Jarvis sighs.

“Hey, I got something,” Tony trills.

Sam turns on her toes and begins running in the opposite direct. “Roger, coming at you.”

“Roger, Rogers,” Tony cracks up laughing.

Jarvis groans.

“Seriously, Tony, just stop.” Sam rolls her eyes.

“You two have no appreciation for real comedy.”

“Yes, it must be us.” Despite his flat tone, Jarvis’s comment is scathing.

Sam snickers. “Tony, love, you’re just not funny.”

“I am too. It’s pure-blooded American humor. Not your stuffy-” Tony’s voice cuts out.

“Anthony, we seem to have lost you.”

“So, um, small problem,” he whispers.

“Yes?” Sam waits patiently.

“Well, I found the boat.”

“And?”

“I figured he wouldn’t be back for a minute.”

“And?”

“So, I decided to try and disable the engine.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake! Tony, tell me you are not on that boat.”

“I’m not on that boat.”

“He’s lying.” Once again, Jarvis’s matter-of-fact tone rings through the coms.

“Oh, bloody hell!” Sam launches into a sprint. “Tony, where was the damned thing?”

“Oh, shit. She went British.”

“Tony!”

“Somewhere near Ninety-eighth Street.”

“Mr. Jarvis, I just passed Sixty-fourth. How far is that?”

“A little over a mile.”

Sam groans, running faster. “And how fast can a Speedship go?”

“I’m not quite certain, please hold.”

“No, Jarvis!” Silence. “Bloody Norah! Tony, do you have any idea?”

“I don’t know, Sam, but he hasn’t left yet.”

“Get off the bloody boat!”

“He’ll see me.”

“I don’t care!”

“I do. We can still stop the guy.”

“Tony-”

“Look, Sam, with Jarvis’s help, I can stall the engine long enough for you to get here.”

“And I’m the stubborn one!”

Tony chuckles quietly. “J, stop calculating the speed of a Speedship. I need to know very quickly how to short this engine.”

Sam tunes out the technical talk and focuses on running faster. Her ankle still aches from hitting that wall, but she pushes harder. Her breathing is getting strained, but she pushes harder.

Finally, when her lungs start to burn and, she swears she heard a pop in her ankle, the boat comes into view. She can hear the engine turning over. And over. And over. And yelling, now. She’s been spotted, but it’s too late. She bounds two more steps, then shoves off with her right leg, groaning from the strain on her ankle.

The boat is wobbly on her landing, and she immediately falls into a somersault.

“Mr. Jarvis,” Sam pants, “Would you kindly lecture Tony. I’m busy.” She springs to her feet, only to duck under Davenport’s left hook.

“Gladly, Miss Rogers.”

Again, Sam tunes them out, letting their discussion set the pace of her movements. This really shouldn’t take long, Davenport’s an art thief, not a boxer.

Stars shoot across Sam’s vision when a fist lands on her left cheekbone. She grabs the wrist and pulls him, sending a knee to his stomach. He blocks, shoving her leg back to the ground. She simultaneously releases his wrist and grabs the opposite shoulder, spinning him around. She grabs the back of his head and slams his forehead onto the side wall. He crumples in her arms, unconscious.

“Tony,” she gasps for air between words, “do you have zip ties?”

He looks at her dumbfounded. “Where would I be keeping them?”

“Oh, forget it.” She’s recovered slightly but is still breathing heavy. “Pass me that rope.”

She limps a few steps toward Tony, reaching for the rope. “Mr. Jarvis, be a dear and phone the authorities.”

Tony helps her step off the boat after she ties Davenport’s hands to the steering wheel. “Well, that was fun.”

Sam glares at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Are you kidding? We caught an international art thief!”

“I’m pretty sure I broke my ankle running after your ass.”

“You’ll be fine in a few days. We’re heroes, right, J?”

“I don’t know about that.” There’s a brief silence. “But I must say, that was rather exciting.”

Sam lets a smile creep across her face. “So, Mr. Jarvis, does that mean I can count you in on future _escapades_.” Sam stresses the last word mockingly.

Steve leans against the front edge of a desk, arms crossed, talking with his team. He looks up to the second floor when he hears Peggy’s office door open. The steady drum of voices on the floor, even his own team’s laughter fades away as he takes her in. Her knee-length skirt swings with every step, sending ripples through the fabric. The loose sleeves of her blouse cuff neatly at the wrists. She leans against the rail, red nails flashing as her hands spread wide. She holds her shoulders back, giving her a regal posture as she overlooks the bullpen. Surveying her domain.

Steve is certain, even with his abnormally long life, he’ll never see anything more beautiful. This is where she was meant to be. Queen of the jungle. He would never understand why she turned the job down so many times.

“Steve. We need your eyes on something else.”

He shakes his head and blushes a little, smile fading. “Yeah, what do you have?”

They hold out a file for him. He takes it, glancing back up. Peggy’s gone. He sighs, looking over the reports. He nods silently, then scrunches his nose. “I didn’t lose my shield. I just hadn’t gone back for it yet.”

One of the men chuckles, “Whatever, I had to carry it out."

Steve rolls his eyes, smiling and shoves the file into the man’s chest. “Fix it.”

He opens the next file and starts scanning.

“Captain.”

Steve smiles at the sound of Peggy’s voice and looks up. “Director?”

She pauses only briefly and motions for him to follow her. “We have business to discuss.”

One of the men smacks Steve’s shoulder. “Duty calls, Captain.”

“Inappropriate,” Peggy chastises with a smile over her shoulder. As they approach the elevator Peggy explains, “The school called. Sam’s not there.”

Steve turns on his heel and tries to get away.

Peggy hurries after him, grabbing him by the elbow. “Oh, no. You’re the one who said she could stay with the Jarvises while my mother’s in town.”

“Can you blame me? Your mother tortures the poor girl.”

Peggy steps off the elevator, leading the way to the car. “She does not. She just wants to show Sam a few homemaking skills.”

“Yeah. Torture,” Steve smirks, “Besides, Sam’s getting kind of big to sleep on the couch.”

They climb into the car and make their way out of the garage. “Mother just wants her to be a lady.”

Steve laughs heartily. “Well, she’s not. I don’t think she has any intentions to become one.”

Peggy chuckles, “I know, but the woman is undeterrable.”

Steve glances sideways at Peggy. “That’s just a polite way of saying she’s stubborn.”

Peggy glares back. “And I suppose the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”

Steve just shrugs. “Any normal person would’ve given up after the crocheting incident.”

“She was utterly gobsmacked!” Peggy snorts, smacking Steve’s arm. Her cackling makes most of the story unintelligible. “When Sam said…if- if I had- if I had said that as a child …Christ, and then Buck- Bucky came in…I thought she’d lose her bloody mind!”

Steve can’t help but laugh. It’s so rare that Peggy loses her composure anymore, never letting out more than a polite chuckle. He’s missed those sounds of pure amusement. Her smile always makes him melt, but her laughter lights a fire under his skin. By the time Peggy catches her breath, tears streaming down her cheeks, Steve’s parking in the Jarvis’ driveway.

Just as Peggy raises her hand to knock, they hear a faint yelp through the door. They lean in closer, discerning even quieter groaning and a few more yelps. Exchanging concerned glances, Peggy shoves the unlocked door open.

Tony is bruised and bloody lying on the couch and massaging his temples. What appear to be pieces of a metal suit are strewn across the living room. Sam is coated in ash and blood sitting on the kitchen table, singed skirt hiked up nearly to her hips, with a foot resting in Jarvis’s lap. Jarvis is leaning over Sam’s leg, tweezers and scalpel in hand.

“Um…Sam?” Steve takes in the sight.

“Hi…Dad.” She smiles weakly, looking at his uniform. “Or should I say Captain?”

He shakes his head sharply. “What’s going on here?” He looks around a second time.

“You know…just a little…kerfuffle.”

“Crikey O’Reilly.” Peggy’s voice carries more disappointment than surprise. “You look like you’ve been blown to hell.”

Sam chuckles nervously, “Well, funny enough…”

“Jesus, Samantha.” Steve throws his hands in the air. “What were- I just- I don’t- How did you manage to find an explosion?”

“Drug bust gone wrong.” She shrugs, then mumbles, “More or less.”

“Cut the rubbish, Samantha. What the bloody hell happened?”

Sam shrinks back. “Okay, okay. We’ve been following leads on a drug ring and it all led back to what we thought was an old abandoned warehouse. Long story short, we went in early this morning to investigate, and…it…exploded.”

“Why…why were you investigating anything?” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re seventeen. You should be studying biology and wondering what kind of meat the lunch lady just gave you. Not chasing criminals.”

“In their defense,” Jarvis peers over the top of his reading glasses, “if everything had gone according to plan, they would have been back in plenty of time for first period.”

“But it didn’t.” Steve gives Sam an icy glare. “It never does. That’s the point.”

“At least it wasn’t dogs again, right, Tony?” Sam laughs turning toward Tony as Jarvis continues working on her leg.

He groans and nods slowly.

“When the bloody hell were there dogs?” Peggy yells making Jarvis jump and Tony groan, rubbing his head.

“Shit!” Sam inhales sharply, jerking her leg involuntarily.

“Language!” Steve’s voice rumbles from deep in his chest.

“Mother, could you please save the yelling for a time when there isn’t a man tearing sharp objects out of my already shredded flesh?”

“Absolutely not. This,” she gestures around, “whatever this is, is one giant cock up. Not only did you decide you’re old enough to fight crime on your own, you dragged Tony into it with you. And somehow managed to convince Mr. Jarvis to join you! Which he and I will discuss at a later date,” she glowers at Jarvis. “At least Tony was smart enough to build that. I assume it’s some type of armor. For the love of Christ.” She paces the living room. “Tell me about the damned dogs.”

Steve wanted to be angry with Sam, but he just can’t seem to focus on anything but Peggy. He doesn’t understand half of her British phrases, but she’s gorgeous when she’s angry. As long as she’s not angry with him. Her accent thickens and the idioms just stream out. And, God, her accent. She squares her shoulders, giving her a sleek silhouette. She gets antsy, always pacing or fiddling with her fingernails or organizing files. And that goddamn accent. Amanda has been in the house entirely too long.

Sam begins timidly. “Not much to it, really. One of our leads had dogs. Angry dogs.” Sam begins laughing. “They got Tony first, completely destroyed the battery pack on the suit. I had to drag him out. It was highly unpleasant.”

Jarvis looks up at her curiously. “You’d rather be blown up than chased by dogs?”

Sam shrugs. “In an explosion: boom, and it’s done. Dogs keep coming back.”

“How in hell did we miss that?” Steve shakes his head.

“You and mom were in Belarus at the time. By the time you got back, everything had healed enough to pass for a really nasty soccer accident.”

“Goddamn it, Sam.” He looks at Peggy. “I remember that.”

She nods. “Sam, what were you planning to tell us this time?”

“My plan was not to get blown up. But clearly that went all to pot.”

Peggy laughs in agreement, and everyone is silent. Steve watches Peggy pace, her expression a mix of concern and outrage. He knew most men prefer skintight pencil skirts, especially on a woman with Peggy’s curves, but he likes the way her body makes the fabric move. The skirt is tight at the waist and flows smoothly as she walks. It hugs her hips just enough that he can see them sway with every step, the skirt ruffling gracefully. Her blouse, like all her clothes, fits perfectly. The top button closes just above her cleavage, leaving her collarbone exposed. She always flares her shoulders and puffs her chest when she’s angry, causing her normally loose shirt to pull tight against her.

“As soon as Mr. Jarvis finishes cleaning you up, you’re coming home. Clearly, you’re not responsible enough to stay here.” Peggy’s sudden declaration breaks Steve’s trance.

“Mom, please. Look at us. We learned our lesson.”

“Yes, look at you. Tony most likely has a concussion. That armor is the only thing that saved his life, and he’s still beat to hell. And you- You are not as strong as you want to pretend you are. You could’ve died.” She rubs her eyes. “What is Greg going to say? I can’t believe you would try something like this so close to our CPS check-in. God, the paperwork we’re going to have to file. I’m going to have to concoct some training accident.”

“Dad?”

He holds his hands up in defeat, tearing his eyes away from Peggy’s perfectly sculpted calves. “Don’t look at me. I’m on her side.”

“Home, Samantha.” She smiles. “And you’re going to spend the rest of Grandma's visit as her personal concierge. Whatever she wants to do. No complaints and certainly no back-talking.”

“Mom, no.” Sam’s eyes go wide. “That’s like two more weeks!”

Steve chuckles.

“Mom, yes.” Peggy nods. “You’ll spend your free time acting like a lady. I can’t think of a more fitting punishment.”

Sam groans and flops back onto the table.

Steve chews the inside of his cheek as he studies Peggy. Her face and chest are flushed from yelling, and she still hasn’t stopped moving. “Edwin, can you bring Sam home as soon as you’re done? I just remembered I left my pager at the office.”

Jarvis nods without looking up. “Certainly, Steve.”

Steve leads Peggy out with a hand on the small of her back. When they get in the car, Peggy looks at him. “You don’t have a pager.”

He smiles deviously, “Since your mother’s still in town, why don’t we have a little throwback. Relive our Army days, sneaking around your quarters so the barracks officer wouldn’t catch us.”

Two weeks later, Jarvis picks Sam and Tony up on the last day of school. He waits patiently in the car as they say goodbye to their friends. Jarvis smiles at Tony as he slides in the passenger seat. Sam walks around the car and leans down to look in Jarvis's window.

“Ready for another adventure, Mr. Jarvis?” She grins broadly.

He shakes his head. “Those blue eyes truly are the only thing you got from Steve.”


	7. Adventures in Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets in trouble. Again. Then, shit goes down.

Sam sits at the kitchen table, wishing, for the first time ever, her grandmother were there. Of course, Sam and Tony had gotten into another kerfuffle, and this time Amanda wasn’t there to buffer the lecture. Caught under the icy gaze of Steve or Peggy Rogers is not a comfortable place to be. And here Sam is, trapped by both.

Peggy seemed to have gotten it all out at the Jarvis’ home. Steve tore into Sam the moment the front door closed but seemed to have wound down. After several long moments of painful silence, Sam begins to relax.

Steve rubs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. “I don’t want you seeing him anymore.”

Peggy whips her head around to look at Steve, wide-eyed.

“What?” Sam half yells, half laughs.

“I don’t like this new direction you’re heading, Sam,” Steve answers coolly.

“This was all my idea!”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “The Iron Man suit was your idea? You thought it up, drew out the designs, built it, tested it? Chasing drug dealers and pimps was your idea? Bringing Mr. Jarvis in was your idea?”

Sam bites her bottom lip. “Yes.”

Steve slams his hand on the table, and even Peggy flinches. “Do not lie to me, Samantha.”

Sam looks to Peggy for help. “Mom?”

“Well, love, you never got into this much trouble while Tony was gone.” Peggy answers softly.

Sam’s eyes dart back to Steve. “Dad, you can’t!”

“I’m your father. I can do whatever I damn well please. You’re a child; if you’ve proven anything today, it’s that. The only thing you do without our permission is breathe.”

“What do you have against Tony?”

Steve takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “Sam, how well do you really know him?” She opens her mouth, but Steve silences her with a wave of his hand. “He’s been at boarding school for almost five years now. Yeah, you see him every summer, but isn't it pretty likely that he changed in those five years and just puts on an act for you.”

“Dad, that’s ridiculous. I’ve known him all his life.”

“Sam,” He pauses. “Sam, he was expelled for multiple Honor Code violations. And he wasn’t cheating on tests.”

Sam lets out a solitary laugh and quick smile. “Dad, that’s-” She scoffs again. “Dad that’s…that’s ridiculous. Tony wouldn’t…He’s not…How do you even know that?”

“As angry as Howard was about the expulsion, he was even more proud of the reason.” Steve sits down across from Sam. “Why do you think I wanted Mr. Jarvis to go on all your dates? Sam, I trust you, I do. Or, at least I did; right now I don’t know. But I’ve seen teenagers do some stupid things because they think they’re in love.”

“Dad, that’s ridiculous. I know Tony.”

Steve shakes his head. “For what it’s worth, I do wish it were different.”

“For what it’s worth?” Sam laughs loudly, almost screeching. “Do you hear yourself? You don’t know anything about him. You haven’t said more than a dozen words to him since we started high school.”

He stands up with a sigh. “My job is not to be your friend, and I don’t really care if you like me or not. You and Tony are done.”

Sam stares at him lips pursed, face turning red. “I hate you.”

Peggy closes her eyes with a sigh. “And now you’re grounded.”

Sam looks at her and begins to protest, but reconsiders. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. If you’re not going to let me see Tony, I might as well stay here in this hellhole.”

“Two weeks.” Steve continues calmly.

Sam stands up and pushes past Steve. “Oh, sod off.”

“Three weeks. Keep playing, Sam.” Peggy answers in shock.

Sam raises both hands, flipping them off as she walks down the hall.

“A month, and you’re about to lose your music player.” Steve yells after her. He sinks into a chair with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, that could’ve gone worse.”

Peggy laughs, walking up to his side. “She doesn’t mean any of that.”

“I know.” He leans into Peggy, and she wraps her arms around him. “But that doesn’t make it feel good.”

“So, you’ve been cheating on me?” Bucky smiles, passing Sam a freshly washed plate.

Sam rolls her eyes and begins drying it. “Of course, they told you.”

“Of course,” He agrees, “How else would they explain why their seventeen-year-old daughter suddenly needs a babysitter?”

Sam closes a cabinet and turns back to take a glass from Bucky. “I don’t need a lecture, alright.”

“Great,” he chuckles, “I’m not very good at them.”

Sam pauses before taking the glass to another cabinet. “You’re not upset?”

He shakes his head. “You’re ready. We’ve run plenty of _missions_ on your own with me in your ear. The next logical step was for you to lead a team.”

Sam laughs at his tone of the word “missions.” She knows he doesn’t consider their crime-fighting spree to be real missions. “Did they tell you about the bomb?”

He shrugs. “You got a little scuffed up. Kinda comes with the territory.”

Sam laughs. “Mom was-”

“She overreacted. But you’re her kid, also comes with the territory.” He shrugs again. “Their only kid, I might add. And at her age, they don’t exactly get a do-over if something happens to you.”

Sam passes Bucky the towel. “Oh, but other than that, I’m totally replaceable?”

He winks at her, drying his hands. He leaves the kitchen and comes back in with a handheld radio. “Frequency is already set.” He holds it out to her. “Just promise you’ll call me for help if things go sideways.”

“Uncle Bucky, we can-”

“Sooner or later, shit’s gonna hit the fan.” He pulls his hand back before she can take the radio. “Part of being a good leader is knowing when you need backup. Doesn’t make you weak or incompetent.”

Sam nods, reaching for the radio. “I promise.”

“You know where the guest room is.” He releases the radio, changing the subject. “Towels are under the bathroom sink. Don’t wash your hair down the drain.”

“Yeah, alright.” Sam laughs making her way to the guest room.

Bucky begins walking the opposite direction then turns around. “You want to go to the gym in the morning?”

Sam turns to face him, smiling. “Yeah, sure.”

“Be ready at eight.”

She scrunches her nose. “Maybe not.”

He laughs. “Alright. Well, you can come with me if you want. Otherwise, you’re on your own for breakfast.”

Sam gives him a thumbs up as she finishes her trek to the guest room. She closes the door behind her and begins unpacking her suitcase, smiling as she pulls out her party dress. Steve and Peggy are only planning to be gone for a few days, but with Howard speaking at the UN it’s very likely to take a week or longer. Sam lays her dress out on the bed and takes her pajamas to the bathroom. After a long shower, she wraps her hair in a towel and settles into the couch to watch TV.

Bucky walks out in dark jeans and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

Sam whistles. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” He smiles. “You can hold down the fort, right?”

“Sure you don't need a wingman?” Sam jokes.

“Yeah. Walking into a bar with a seventeen-year-old girl sounds like a good idea.” He rolls his eyes as he opens the door. “Don’t wait up.”

“Gross.” Sam gags dramatically. “Get out of here.”

She waits several minutes after she hears Bucky’s car leave the driveway, then she jumps up and runs back to the bedroom. She throws her little red dress on and pulls her hair into a messy updo. She’s just finishing her lipstick when there’s a quiet knock at the door.

Sam grabs a jacket and opens the door. “Perfect timing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony leans in and kisses her. “You look amazing.”

Sam smiles and shakes her head. “Let’s go. We have a party to set up.”

Three hours later, the Stark estate resembles a night club more than a family home. The pool glows purple. Every room in the house is flashing different colors. The whole soccer team is present, as well as half Sam’s class.

Sam walks up behind Tony, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Great party. Everyone is having a great time.”

“I thought it’d be a good way to get to know my new classmates.” He turns around and hands Sam another beer. “Come on. You’re falling behind.”

She takes the drink, her third in the last hour. She had started the evening with two shots before anyone arrived, and Tony insisted she drink two beers for each one of his. Using this strategy, she had managed to maintain a buzz for the last two hours. Having a super-soldier metabolism almost makes parties more trouble than they are worth.

“Oh!” Tony’s eyes light up as he grabs Sam’s arm. “I wanted to show you something.”

Tony leads her down stairs to Howard’s lab. The lights take a few seconds to come on. The Iron Man armor is standing on full display in the middle of the open room. Tony walks over and begins inspecting it.

“Since the cat’s out of the bag, my dad has been helping me make modifications. It’s more or less, one piece with several hinges. We added a miniaturized hydraulic system, so it can open and close on my command.” Tony steps into the suit and it closes around him. “Neat, huh?”

Sam chuckles. “Very.”

Tony laughs and the suit opens back up with a quiet hiss. “Are you impressed?”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what this was?”

Tony smirks, walking back to her, “I'm always trying to impress you.”

Sam yelps when Tony grabs her waist and pulls her into him. He kisses along her jaw. “You didn’t answer the question.”

She hums against his lips, turning her head to let him kiss her neck. “Keep trying.”

“Oh.” He pulls back and gives her a sly grin. “Alright.”

He grabs her thighs and lifts her off the ground. She wraps her legs around his waist and runs her hands through his hair. “Now we’re talking.”

He sets her down on a nearby workbench with a deep breath. “You are shockingly heavy.”

She smacks his arm.

“I said ‘shockingly.' That means you don’t look heavy.”

She leans in to kiss him, slowly working her way up his jaw to nip at his ear. “You’ve always talked too much.”

He growls and bites gently at her neck making her gasp and drag her fingers down his back. Encouraged by her reaction, he slides his hands under her shirt. She bites her lip, one hand pulling gently at his hair. He nuzzles against the crook of her neck, making her giggle.

“Are you- Sam, are you ticklish?” His grin spreads as she shakes her head vigorously. “So it wouldn’t bother you if I just…” He trails his fingers along the same spot, barely skimming over her skin.

Her face tenses, the corners of her mouth twitching wildly. Her breathing quickens until a few choked laughs work their way out.

“I knew it!” He pulls his hand back and teases, “Are you impressed now?”

“Almost.” She smiles, prompting him to move in closer and kiss down the other side of her neck.

She leans into him with a soft sigh.

“I love you,” he breathes across her skin.

She squirms as the words stir up the already excited butterflies in her stomach. Then her eyebrows pinch together, and she stiffens slightly. “Wh- why would you say that?”

She can feel his smirk on her skin. “Because I love you, baby.”

She shifts under his kiss, placing her hands on his biceps. “But why say it now? Why this moment?”

“I don’t know.” He huffs out a breath. “I thought you’d like it.”

Sam pushes him back and straightens up. “Tony, what happened at the Academy?”

He furrows his eyebrows and cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

She levels her gaze with his. “Tony, don’t play with me. Why did you leave the Academy?”

“I told you.”

“No, you told me it was a long story. Which is funny because ‘I slept with every girl who would open her door' doesn’t sound like a long story to me.”

He looks away and lowers his voice. “Who told you?”

She pushes him away, sliding off the workbench. She swallows hard, unsure whether the lump in her throat is from anger or heartbreak. “It doesn’t matter. It should have been you.” She pushes past him walking to the door.

“Sam, come on.” He follows her up the stairs. He catches up to her in the hallway to the living room. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m the only guy ever to do that.”

“It’s a big deal for me.” She locks eyes with him.

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” He rubs his hands up her arms soothingly. “Come on, let’s get another drink.”

“I don’t really feel like drinking anymore, Tony.” Her voice is cold.

“Come on, Sam, it’s a party.” He smiles at her. “Loosen up a little.”

Anger flashes across Sam’s face. She slaps Tony across the cheek, leaving a crisp, red handprint. “God. You’re no better than Michael.”

“Sam, wait!”

She storms into the living room. “I have nothing left to say to you. Now, leave me alone before you make a scene."

“Don’t walk away from me!” Tony says aggressively, grabbing her arm to turn her around.

Sam spins around, jerking her arm away. “I said we’re done.”

She shoves Tony back. He crashes onto the glass coffee table, drawing everyone’s attention. Conversations halt mid-sentence as partygoers process the situation. Sam looks around the room; half the eyes are on her, the other half watching Tony recover on the floor. She turns on her heel with a huff and stalks into Howard’s study.

She turns when the door opens behind her, and a few of the guys from the soccer team walk in. Sam slumps into the office chair as they approach.

“Everything alright?”

“Stark’s pretty shaken up.”

“What happened? Everything seemed good twenty minutes ago.”

“Sam, did he try to-"

“Guys, no,” she chuckles sadly, “I’m fine. Just, angry, I guess.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Clark. I just- just need a minute alone.” She rubs her temples.

“Alright.” Clark turns and ushers the others out. “Let’s go, guys.”

After a deep breath, Sam picks up the phone on the desk.

Three rings and a gruff chuckle. “Just give me a minute, doll.” There’s a short pause. “Barnes.”

“Uncle Bucky?” She takes a steadying breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Sam?” His voice is focused, with a hint of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just- I’m fine. I just…was hoping…Can you…pick me up?”

“What? Where are you?” He’s taken by surprise.

There’s a quiet voice in the background. “_James, what could possibly be more interesting than-”_

“Hey, I said cut it out.” Bucky snaps at the mystery voice.

“Never mind. I can just walk.” Sam offers.

“Shut up. Of course, I’ll come get you. Where are you?”

“Tony’s,” she answers timidly.

He groans. “Give me twenty minutes.”

“Thanks.”

The line goes dead. Sam rests her elbows on the desk and drops her head into her hands. She breathes deeply swallowing sobs before they can form. Small twinges of anger build in the pit of her stomach. The longer she sits, the worse it gets.

Finally, she decides to wait outside. She squares her shoulders and opens the study door, eyes set on the front door.

“So, you’re available again?”

“Oh, go to hell.” Sam doesn’t even turn to see who the voice belongs to, nor does she care.

She storms out the door and into the cool night air. She inhales deeply, stinging her lungs. The jolt of fresh air clears her mind and helps calm her down. She paces silently for several moments before sinking onto the porch steps, waiting for her ride. She stands when she sees headlights approaching and runs to meet them.

“Hey.” She slides into the passenger seat.

Bucky stares at her, eyebrows raised. “That’s it?”

She settles back, grumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He shakes his head, throwing the car into gear. “Alright.”

As the blinker clicks, signaling their turn out of the driveway, Sam takes a shaky breath. “I broke up with Tony.”

“Weren’t you supposed to do that two weeks ago?”

“Oh, like you didn’t know.” Sam rolls her eyes, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Okay, you got me.” He chuckles, braking lightly. “So, what happened?”

“Dad was right.”

“Yeah. I’d never admit it, but he usually is.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Sam smiles.

Bucky glances at her from the corner of his eye. “Deal.”

They finish the drive in silence. Sam stares out her window, sniffling occasionally. They still don’t speak when they arrive at Bucky’s house. He unlocks the door and they go their separate ways.

Bucky turns around halfway down the hall. “I’m sorry, kid.”

Sam nods, then smiles weakly. “I’m sorry I ruined your…night.”

Bucky laughs. “Second dates aren’t exactly my thing anyway.”

The next morning, Bucky puts on sweatpants and a hoodie then steps into the living room. He startles when he sees Sam on the couch tying her shoes.

“You made it.” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“Sorry to disappoint you.” She grumbles, walking to the door.

“Actually,” he pauses, “I was planning to use the Stark’s gym since they have a punching bag.”

Sam stops, then shrugs. “That’s fine. I’m sure Tony’s passed out somewhere anyway.” She opens the door and continues out.

He follows, tugging at the solitary French braid trailing down her back. “Cute.”

She pulls her braid out of his hand, letting it drape over the front side of her shoulder. “Not cute, necessary. Do you know what it’s like to workout with long hair?”

“No, because I was trained better than that,” he teases.

Sam rolls her eyes. “It’s like a whip hitting your face at every turn. Not pleasant.”

“Did you eat something?” They climb into the car. “I don’t want you passing out on me.”

She holds up a granola bar. “I’m eating.”

When they arrive at the Stark's house, Jarvis waves them into the living room.

He turns off the vacuum, gesturing around the room. “It would seem Anthony took full advantage of Mr. and Mrs. Stark’s absences. Would you mind assisting me in removing the remnants of this table.

“Sam would love to.” Bucky smiles at her. “It’ll be a good warmup for you. Meet me downstairs when you’re done.”

Sam groans, but agrees. When she joins Bucky in the gym, neither has worked up a sweat.

When he hears Sam walk in, Bucky turns away from the punching bag. “Bear crawl, lunges, arm circles, and any other stretching exercise you can think of.”

“I don’t need to."

“You may heal at an accelerated rate, but muscle tears still hurt like a bitch. Trust me.”

Sam reluctantly goes through the exercises Bucky mentioned and a few more. After fifteen minutes he motions her over to the bag. “Did you bring your wraps?”

“No, but I think,” Sam looks around before walking to a bench in the opposite corner, “Tony’s are here.” She comes back wrapping a strip of thick red fabric around her wrist and hand.

“Let’s see what you got.” Bucky leans his shoulder into the bag, bracing it for Sam.

She throws a few quick punches into the bag. Bucky doesn’t budge. She falls into a nice rhythm. Jab, cross, hook. Jab, cross, hook.

“So, what happened to the table?”

Sam smirks, throwing a hook. “I pushed-” Jab, cross. “Tony down.” Hook.

Bucky laughs. “I wish I’d seen that.”

Sam shakes her head, jumping back in. “Yeah, well-” Jab, cross. “Everyone else-” Hook. “Did.” She finishes the set with a body shot.

“Good.” Bucky adjusts his stance to brace the bag better. “Maybe they’ll leave you alone.”

Sam ducks her head in agreement, bouncing on the balls of her feet before hopping back up to the bag. She goes through a few more sets, then growls out between her teeth, “What’s wrong, Sam?”

Jab, cross, hook, body. She tosses her hair, then throws another jab. She sneers without breaking rhythm. “Calm-” Cross. “Down-” Hook. “Sam.” Body.

Bucky rocks back with the last punch but leans more weight against the bag.

Jab. “It’s a-” Cross, hook. “Party-” Body, body, “Sam.”

“Just-” Jab, cross, hook. “Let-” Body, body. “Loose.” Sam grunts loudly as she spins around, kicking the side of the bag.

Bucky jumps back and watches the bag slam into the wall to his left. He looks at Sam, who’s staring at the ground, breathing heavy and dripping sweat. He notices movement in the doorway.

Without turning around, Sam squares her shoulders. “Leave.” She shoves past Bucky to sit down on the bench at the far wall, unwrapping her wrists.

“You threw me through my own furniture. I think I at least deserve an explanation.” Tony says still in the doorway.

“You dated me for three months. I deserved an explanation. You deserve nothing.” She takes two bottles of water from the mini-fridge and walks back to Bucky.

“So, you’re not going to tell me?” Tony takes a step into the room, earning a sharp look from Bucky.

“There’s a lot you didn’t tell me.” Sam takes a long drink. “Exactly how many _things_ did you do at the Academy that you didn’t tell me about?”

“You win. I’m leaving.” Tony turns and walks away.

Bucky takes the water bottle Sam holds out to him. “So I take it you know.”

Sam nods. “Dad told me two weeks ago. I didn’t really believe him until last night.”

“Tony told you to let loose?”

Sam nods again.

“He knows what Michael said about you?”

“He should.” She looks away. “He was there. He was the first one to call Michael an ass.” Sam shakes her head, then looks at Bucky. “Your turn.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I don't really want to be here anymore. How about after we clean this up, we shower and go out for a real breakfast?”

Sam nods, grinning. As Bucky unwraps his hands, Sam asks, “Are you going to watch my soccer practice tomorrow?”

Bucky groans, “Are their going to be cheerleaders?”

Sam shakes her head. “We don’t have cheerleaders.”

“Good. I hate the way those girls look at me.”

Sam bursts into laughter. “Yeah, that's why Dad doesn't go without Mom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I think I'm going to work on a few one-shots from Sam's childhood next, so I may put this one on hold for a couple weeks. Feel free to drop me some ideas :)  
I added "And a Divorce" to my One Shots, and I also added a second story in there


	8. Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a few weeks of a time jump since the last chapter.  
Sam gets in trouble again (go figure), and Steve makes a deal with her. Bucky has a death in the family, bringing a new original character (and Sam's childhood friend) into the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a family death and an emotional scene toward the end.  
This one's kind of long, but I haven't updated in a while...so even trade?

Sam sits silently in the backseat of Bucky’s car. She really fucked up this time.

“I know we don’t want anyone talking about this, Peg, but don’t you think wiping their memories was a little much?” Bucky asks casually.

“I most certainly do not.” Peggy’s voice is cool and matter of fact.

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t even see us.”

“And I’m pretty sure Howard’s memory suppressor works, but it’s never been tested.” She smirks. “That he can remember, anyway.”

Bucky laughs, “Hopefully that’s a good sign that it works.”

She shakes her head. “Only a bloody amateur couldn’t tell that was a sting operation.”

“I could tell they were cops before we got out of the car,” Bucky agrees.

After a beat of silence, Peggy raises an eyebrow. “How did your date go last week? What was her name, Martha? Melanie?”

“Margaret.”

“Ugh. That’s right.” She shakes her head, then teases. “You know, you could just ask Steve to share.”

“Yeah, and get my teeth knocked out. No thanks.”

“Oh, god. Please stop.” Sam slouches in her seat.

Peggy ignores her. “He hasn’t yet.”

Bucky lets out a hearty laugh. “That was one time, and I remember it being your idea.”

“You know," Sam leans forward, "I’ve always thought my eyes looked more grey than blue. And the dark hair…”

Bucky looks at Peggy. “Oh, she thinks she’s funny.”

Peggy turns to look at her. “Another word from you and I’ll throw you out of the car myself.”

“That would be better than this,” Sam mutters to herself, slamming back into her seat.

Peggy turns back around and settles into the seat. “Besides, that was long before you.”

When they get to the Rogers' house, Bucky drops the girls off. He doesn’t even get out of the car.

Steve is pacing in the kitchen, arms crossed tightly. Peggy gestures to a dining chair, and Sam sits down.

“I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.” Peggy takes a few steps toward the hallway but turns back. “Steve, don’t kill her. She’s the only one we’ve got.”

A heavy silence fills the room. Sam stares at her father’s feet, unable to look him in the face. Before this moment, she never thought that feet could look angry. Another minute passes and neither say a word. Another silent minute passes and Sam begins to raise her eyes, studying Steve, trying to discern his thoughts. His whole body shakes with anger; every muscle trembles with restraint.

“What were you thinking?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” He barely moves as he speaks.

“Dad, I was trying to do the right thing. I didn’t know-”

“No. I don’t even care.” He raises his voice, “It doesn’t matter what you thought. You acted like a child. You’re barely seventeen. You are a child. Do you understand that?!” He begins moving toward her, continuing to raise his voice, “You don’t decide who is worth going after. You don’t get to make that call, Samantha!” He pauses and runs a hand through his hair. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it and turns to walk back toward the kitchen counter. “You could not have possibly thought this through.” He continues more calmly, “Because if you had, you would have realized anything was better than whatever you had planned to do. You would have been better off without any plan at all.”

Silence hangs in the air for another full minute before Steve continues, “We trusted you, Sam. We tolerated you going on these crime-fighting sprees with Bucky because he could keep an eye on you and keep you out of real trouble. He could steer you in the right direction. Point out undercover cops.” He growls out the last sentence. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. I swear, every time I think you’re learning, growing up. Every time I start to trust you again, you do something so enormously stupid, I want to ground you for life. And this really takes the cake.”

Steve pauses again, gathering his thoughts. Sam, though surprised to find out he knew about her missions with Bucky, takes the opportunity to break into the lecture, “Daddy, I’m sorry. I just-” She swallows a lump in her throat, “I made a mistake. I won’t do it again.”

“You’re damn right you won’t.” Steve yells, then takes another breath to calm himself again, “Sam, you’re done. Bucky will not be taking you out anymore. And, so help me God, if you sneak out one more time, I will handcuff you to the refrigerator.”

“No,” she knows her protest is pointless, “please, dad.”

He takes a deep breath leaning against the counter with his back to Sam. “What if someone had died tonight, Sam? Are you ready to take that kind of responsibility? To have that weight on your conscience? What if-” He stops short and takes another deep breath, “What if you died?” He pauses and turns to look at her, giving her a moment to consider what he had said. “In case you have any doubt, that is not something your mother and I are prepared to handle.” After another minute of silence, he sighs, suddenly seeming exhausted. “Go to bed. We’ll talk about this again tomorrow.” He stands up straight and waves a hand toward the hallway.

Sam stands but doesn’t leave, determined to make her own point, “Dad, you don’t understand what it’s like. My whole life, you and mom have taught me to defend the little guy. To stand up for what’s right, no matter the cost. My whole life, I’ve watched you and mom do that, whether you were in Germany or my kindergarten classroom. How can you expect me to just forget who am I? I’m different than all my friends. I’m stronger, faster, smarter. I always have been, but I have to hold back. I can’t run full speed on the soccer field because it wouldn’t be fair. I can’t do anything at full strength because someone could get hurt. You won’t let me go on missions with you and mom because I could get hurt. I can’t do anything at school without getting in trouble for picking fights. I just- I just wanted to do more. Be more. Like you.” She walks to the edge of the hallway then stops without turning around. “I mean, I was meant for more. Right?”

Steve stands in the kitchen thinking while Sam walks away. He runs a hand down his face and turns around, looking out the window. He stares at the empty back yard, smiling at the memories of him playing with Sam.

She barely came up to his knees but insisted on being Captain America. Running around with his shield, attacking invisible Hydra agents with him by her side. Always so determined. Nothing could stand in the way of her defeating the bad guy.

He takes a deep breath and walks down the hall. He stops to knock on Sam’s door. “Be ready to train at seven in the morning.”

Steve and Peggy are already waiting in the living room when Sam trudges out.

Steve looks at his watch. “I said seven.”

“I wasn’t very motivated.” Sam rolls her eyes.

Steve crosses his arms, shoulders square, and growls, “Your motivation is that I told you to.” He looks at Peggy. “She’s your daughter for now. If we keep at this, I’m going to knock her out.”

With that, Steve walks out the front door and Peggy glares at Sam. “You’re not cute. Stretch. We’re taking the route around the lake. You’re doing it twice.”

Sam groans and follows Peggy onto the porch. Peggy puts her headphones in her ears and jogs in the same direction as Steve who can barely be seen running in the distance. After two songs, she picks up her pace to full speed. Steve is far out of sight and will likely be coming up behind her in two more songs.

Peggy keeps the volume on her music low enough she can her people approaching. She hates being ambushed. Her muscles tense involuntarily as she hears footsteps approaching, despite knowing the likelihood of being attacked here is low. She doesn’t relax until she realizes the steps are moving to quickly to be anyone other than Steve.

He slows to match her speed, coming in beside her. “Hey, hot stuff.”

“Are you happy with yourself?” She rolls her eyes, wiping sweat from her face. “I’m disgusting.”

“You, my dear, have never looked better.”

She yelps as Steve smacks her ass and runs ahead. She shakes her head with a smirk, picking up her pace slightly. She sighs, prepared to enjoy the next ten minutes of solitude before Steve comes back around. She misses the days of running alone. Peaceful.

Right on time, she hears Steve approaching again. “Hey, sweet cheeks.”

“There’s the charmer I fell in love with,” Peggy groans.

Steve chuckles, pulling Peggy in and stopping. He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off again.

Peggy laughs, “I guess there are some perks to running buddies.”

A few more minutes, and another set of approaching steps puts her on edge again.

“On your left.” Sam breezes by leisurely.

Peggy growls, then takes a deep breath. Not today. She sprints after Sam as hard as she can. Peggy catches up in just over a minute, launching herself at Sam with a grunt. Sam hits the ground, knocking the air out of her lungs.

“What the hell, Mom?” Sam coughs.

Peggy crawls a few feet away and throws up behind a tree. “You think you’re so special.”

Sam laughs standing up. “So, ‘on your left' is only funny when Dad does it?”

“There’s a lot of things,” Peggy stands up, breathing heavily, “I only like when he does them.”

Sam scrunches her nose and backs away slowly before taking off to finish her run.

Peggy follows at a slow jog. Two more songs and Steve's coming back around. She groans; runs are supposed to be calming. She braces herself for the imminent banter.

He runs in front of her and turns around, forcing her to a complete stop. He grabs her waist and kisses her lips.

“What was that for?” Peggy pulls away.

“Looked like you could use a little pick me up.” He gives her another quick kiss, allowing one hand to fall a little lower.

“Keep that up, Rogers, and you’re going to have a problem on your hands when we get home.” She says, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

He raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’d hate to run all that way just to find a problem.”

“Oh?”

His eyes dart to the tree line and back. “What do you say we find out if that little clearing is still back there?”

Peggy laughs, “We have a run to finish. Sam’s waiting.”

Steve shrugs. “So, let her wait. She’s in trouble anyways.”

Peggy tries to push around him, but he pulls her back in and kisses along her jaw. “Come on. Where’s that sense of adventure I fell in love with?”

She squirms under the warmth of his lips and lets herself melt into his arms. “If I get chiggers, you will never hear the end of it.”

He grins, “Oh, I can live with that.”

Sam fumes on the front porch swing, every muscles tense as she strains against breaking something. Steve at least should have been back twenty minutes ago.

“_I said seven_,” she says mockingly to herself, “Got up at six-thirty so I can wait half an hour for Mom and Dad to get back from their run.”

She throws the front door open and storms inside. She throws a pan onto the stove with a clang and pulls eggs and bacon out of the fridge. Her stomach grumbles as the house fills with the smell of breakfast.

She’s halfway done eating when Steve and Peggy stroll in. “Breakfast on the stove.” Sam glares at them.

“Smells delicious.” Steve walks into the kitchen and takes two strips of bacon out of the pan. He holds the bacon between his teeth and pulls two plates from the cabinet. He passes one to Peggy.

“You made beans and tomatoes?” Peggy asks, raising her eyebrows.

Sam nods, swallowing a bite of eggs. “You like the tomatoes fried, right?”

Steve piles eggs, bacon, and a few tomatoes onto his plate. “Beans are not for breakfast.”

Peggy smiles at Sam, rolling her eyes. “It’s been twenty years, darling, are you ever going to stop saying that?”

Steve shakes his head, smirking as best he can with his mouth full.

“Sorry it’s not a full breakfast. Figured we didn’t want to eat too much.”

“It’s lovely.” Peggy sits down next to Sam. “Nice to have a little bit of home.”

“Hey, this is your home now.” Steve gives her a stern look. “Full citizenship, no more green card.”

Peggy rolls her eyes and addresses Sam. “Your father’s just bitter that I wouldn’t accept citizenship for my service with the Army during the war.”

“She had to stop and show her green card every time she opened her mouth,” Steve groans, “We were always late.”

Sam giggles, “Why didn’t you want to change your citizenship?”

“To be a pain in my ass,” Steve jumps in, biting off another piece of bacon.

“Because I didn’t know if I was staying.” Peggy glares at Steve sideways. “I didn’t want to go through all the trouble just to go back to work for MI-5.”

“See what I mean?” Steve looks at Sam, expressionless. “She knew she was staying. She just wanted to make me think she wasn’t.”

Peggy smiles and looks away, taking another bite. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, darling.”

Sam laughs, looking back at Steve. “I shouldn’t be punished for making your life difficult. It’s in my blood. Can’t help it.” She shrugs and takes her plate to the sink.

Steve’s shoulders shake as he chuckles to himself. “That reminds me. We have a discussion to finish.”

Sam’s shoulders drop. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” his tone is more serious. “Sam, what you did was outrageously stupid. But you made a good point. You’re about as full-grown as it gets. So, if you want to go on missions with us, you can.”

Sam stares at him, mouth agape. “What?”

Peggy nods, and Steve elaborates. “Stateside missions only, and you can only miss two days of school each month because of it.”

Sam cracks a smile. “Really?”

Steve nods. “But I need to know you can handle yourself. So, when you can beat Mom in a fight, you can go into the field.”

“What?” Peggy glares at him. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

Steve notices Sam’s eyebrows pulling together. “Pin Mom, and I’ll know you’re ready for the big leagues.”

“Okay,” Sam answers slowly, “but I do that all the time.”

Steve smirks waving to the back door, “Then show me.” He looks across the table. “Don’t go easy on her this time.”

Sam lands on her back, gasping for breath. She pulls a knee to her chest weakly, head still throbbing from being hit with a rock. Peggy’s on top of her in an instant, easily knocking Sam’s leg out of the way.

Sam throws her arms up, making an X, to guard her face. Her cheek is already bloody and swollen from that same rock. Peggy digs a knee into Sam’s ribs. Sam reaches out, nails tearing at Peggy’s leg.

The moment Sam’s hands drop, there’s a knife at her neck.

“Where the fuck did that even come from?” Sam pants heavily, tapping Peggy’s shoulder twice.

“Steve, enough is enough.” Peggy stands up, breathing hard. “I’m starting to feel bad about beating my daughter.”

Steve looks at Sam, still lying on the ground with her eyes shut tight. “Yeah, I think we made our point.”

“I’m fine.” Sam groans, attempting to sit up. “Just one more try.”

Steve laughs, “One more hit to the head, and you’re going to have a concussion. That’s enough for today.” He reaches down to pull Sam up. “You can use our tub if you want to soak for a while.”

Sam rubs her side gingerly, nodding. She makes her way inside and to her room. She emerges with a set of clean clothes and Epsom salt. “Do you want to shower before I take a bath?” Sam yells.

“Go ahead. We’ll just use your shower.” Steve’s voice echoes back.

Sam pokes her head around the corner, eyes narrow. “You’re just going to _shower_, right?”

“Yes, love.” Peggy laughs from the kitchen. “I’m much too tired for anything else.”

“Good.” Sam turns around and heads to Steve and Peggy’s bathroom.

She runs the water while she undresses. When the water is warm enough, she stops the drain and pours the Epsom salt in the bottom of the tub. She turns on the radio and pulls her hair into a high bun. After taking a towel from the cabinet, she sinks into the steaming water. She lets out a sigh of relief and leans her head back, her muscles finally relaxing.

Steve is just putting on clean clothes when there’s a knock at the door.

“Peg, are you expecting someone?”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice drifts out of Sam’s bathroom.

Steve makes his way to the front door and opens it cautiously, relaxing when he sees Bucky on the porch.

“Hey, Buck. What do you need?”

“You have that security thing in Wakanda next week, right?” Bucky's eyes are distant.

“Yeah, why?”

“Can- can I take Sam upstate Saturday and- and maybe Friday?” He stumbles through the question.

Steve furrows his brow and tries to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Buck, what’s wrong?”

He looks up, shaking his head. “Right. Sorry. I, uh- I just got off the phone with Becca.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve waves him into the living room.

“Jack’s dead.” Bucky sinks into the armchair.

“What?” Steve answers breathless. “Do the kids know?”

Bucky nods. “Stace is still in Pennsylvania taking summer classes, so she's a little detached right now. But Danny was there when the Captain showed up.”

Steve shakes his head as Peggy walks in, toweling her hair off. “Everything alright, boys?”

Steve pulls Peggy down onto the couch beside him. “Jack died.”

Peggy looks at Bucky. “Your brother-in-law?”

He nods. “He was in pursuit after an armed robbery late last night. I guess he lost control of the squad car and-” He breaks off, taking a deep breath. “They assume he was dead on impact.”

“I’m so sorry.” Peggy whispers, walking into the kitchen.

Steve smiles when he hears the water running. “Buck, you’d better figure out how you like your tea quickly.”

“How very British.” A smile creeps onto his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

She walks back in and sits beside Steve. “Is there anything we can do?”

Bucky sighs. “I was hoping to bring Sam upstate for the memorial on Saturday. For Danny.”

Peggy looks at Steve, who gives a small nod. “Of course. They were always close.”

Bucky’s lips quirk up. “I think you wanted them to be a little closer than they were.”

The teapot whistles in the kitchen, and Peggy waves them off, standing to finish preparing the tea. “Well, there’s plenty of time. They’re still in high school.”

Steve snickers, “I’m not sure a funeral is the place to fan that flame.”

“Nonsense,” Peggy calls from the kitchen, “he’s upset. Vulnerable.”

“Peggy, what exactly are you suggesting?” Bucky asks reluctantly.

“I’m not suggesting anything.” She walks in carrying two steaming mugs. “I’m merely pointing out that anything can happen. Cream and sugar?”

Bucky takes the mug from her outstretched hand. “Um, however you like it is fine. You’re the expert.”

She rolls her eyes, “Bloody prat.” She takes his mug and returns to the kitchen.

He glances at Steve and they both laugh.

“You called her a tea expert?” Steve raises an eyebrow.

Bucky shrugs, leaning back in the chair. “She drinks it more than I do.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m pretty sure she said that already.”

* * *

Sam walks out of the smaller bedroom in the hotel suite wearing a black dress that ties behind her neck and black heels, hair pulled into a formal ponytail.

Bucky’s waiting on the couch in his black suit and tie. He stifles a laugh when he sees the bruised and swollen gash on her jaw. “Looks better today. Why’d your mom deck you, again?”

Sam traces her fingers along the wound. “I snuck up on her while she was doing the dishes.”

“Why in hell would you do that?”

“I can’t beat her if she’s prepared for an attack.”

“You’d rather she break dishes across your face?” He raises an eyebrow with a chuckle.

She shrugs. “Ask Dad how many staples he pulled out of my back when I hid under her desk.”

Bucky winces. “Jesus, kid. What’s wrong with you?”

Sam’s laugh is hollow. “You didn’t grow up like this. Knowing you’re…more and not being able to do anything with it.”

“You will.” He nods, standing up. “Alright, let’s go.”

“You know this is your fault.” Sam says as they walk down the hallway.

“How do you figure that?”

“I called you for backup, and you told Mom and Dad.”

He laughs, pressing the button for the elevator. “So, you’re upset that I told on you?”

“Exactly.”

“Look, kid,” they step onto the elevator, “you easily could’ve been arrested or killed. It was time to call in the cavalry.”

Sam rolls her eyes and slides into the passenger seat. “She’s just so fast. I can barely think, much less react.”

Bucky laughs, “Yeah, kid. You forget, she was a Commando. We run on autopilot. Seen it all at least twice.”

“So how do I beat her?”

“Not with creativity. She’ll knock you on your ass before you get your first swing in.” He thinks for a moment. “She relies heavily on weapons. Get her on the ground before she can grab one. That'll put you on near equal footing.”

Sam thinks back over her recent fights. Rock, plate, fork, stapler, book, pillow, necklace. “Well, hot damn.” She smiles at Bucky.

“Don't get cocky. She'll still kick your ass if you're not careful.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Sam looks out the window as they approach the lake. She smiles, “He brought me and Danny fishing here once. Becca didn’t think I should go, said fishing wasn’t appropriate for me. But I wanted to, so he insisted.”

Bucky smiles at her, but his eyes are distant. “Yeah. Jack didn’t get caught up in all that shit. He thought if you wanted to do something, and it wasn’t hurting anybody, you should do it. Didn’t matter what people thought. He was really good for Becca.”

Sam rubs his arm. “I know you brought me to be here for Danny, but I’m here for you too.”

He shoves her shoulder gently, “Nah, I’m good, kid. It’s all part of life.”

Sam eyes him suspiciously as he climbs out of the car. She shrugs, following him closely. Aside from Bucky’s family, she doesn’t know anyone there. It had been so long, she doesn’t recognize most of his nieces and nephews. She barely remembers the younger ones’ names. Mary, maybe? And Scott, there was definitely a Scott.

Bucky walks off to talk to one of his sisters. Sam walks up behind one of the boys that’s a little taller than her, his dark hair styled neatly. “Hey, punk.” She gently punches the back of one of his broad shoulders.

He turns around with a smile that shows his perfectly white teeth. “Sam,” he wraps her in a hug, before continuing more somberly, “I’m really glad you came.”

“Of course.” She returns his embrace, noticing his sister has wandered around the lake, leaving him alone with their mom and her friends. “You want to go talk somewhere? Catch up a little.”

He nods, following her to a bench.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine, I guess.” He shrugs. “It’s weird. I don’t really feel anything. I know I should be upset, but I’m not. I should feel something, right? I mean, I loved him.”

Sam lays a hand on top of his, squeezing gently. “I’m sure that’s normal. Just give it time.”

He nods absently. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. Got suspended from the soccer team.” She laughs when he raises eyebrows. “Yep, first three games. Broke my ex-boyfriend’s ankle during summer conditioning.”

“Is that where this came from?” He gestures to her face.

“No, that’s,” she takes a deep breath, “that’s a long story.”

Danny shrugs. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

“He was talking shit about tony.”

“Stark?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Yeah, you remember him?”

“Well, I remember seven-year-old him. You two were tight.”

Sam scoffs, “Not so much anymore.”

Danny gives her an inquisitive look.

Sam hesitates. “He changed at boarding school.”

He whistles. “Boy, you really set yourself up for a painful dinner conversation tonight.”

Sam shoves him with her shoulder. “Oh, and you’re doing better?”

“No, I’m glad to have company,” He smiles.

Sam notices Bucky approaching and nods.

Danny turns to smile at him, then looks back at Sam, speaking softly. “I really think it’d be good for me and mom to get out of the house for a little while. Could you maybe ask-"

“I’ll talk to him.” She pats Danny’s shoulder, standing up.

“They’re ready to start the service,” Bucky says quietly waving toward the group of people.

Danny nods, standing up. He leads the three of them into the crowd. Sam and Bucky squeeze in near the middle, but Danny continues to the front with his mom and sister. The service is short, but still he glances back at them occasionally.

When Bucky clears his throat for the third time, Sam brushes her fingers against his metal knuckles, offering her hand. He looks down at her and wraps his arm around her shoulders. She leans in, wrapping an arm around his back.

She whispers almost silently, “It’s okay to hurt. He was like your brother.”

He chuckles once, squeezing her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m going to miss him for sure.”

“Me too,” Sam says, surprised at the tightness in her chest.

As Becca, Stacey and Danny take turns spreading the ashes, Bucky leans over. “Would you be alright staying one more night? Becca wants to meet us for breakfast tomorrow.”

Sam nods, “Danny really wants to come back for a visit. Do you think you could convince Becca to stay with you for a little while?”

“Yeah, that’d probably be good for them,” Bucky agrees. “I’ll see if she wants to come down in a few days and stay for a couple weeks.” 

* * *

Peggy hurries down the hall to answer the front door, while Sam emerges from her room. Sam walks into the kitchen and chuckles at Steve staring intently through the oven window. She can hear Peggy greet the guests at the door.

“That smells amazing, Mr. Rogers.”

Sam notices Steve smile to himself as she whirls around. “Danny! I’m so happy you came over.”

He grins at her. “I haven’t been to a Rogers family dinner in years. Couldn’t possibly miss the chance.”

Bucky nudges past them and into the kitchen. “Smells like home.”

“There really isn’t anything quite like a Brooklyn style pizza.” Peggy follows Bucky through the living room.

“That smell is coming from a pizza?” Danny looks at Sam with wide eyes. “It smells like a four-course meal.”

“I haven’t had_ real_ pizza since I got married.” Becca inhales deeply. “Remember when Mom made pizza?” She tosses a glance a Bucky.

“Dad, how much longer?” Sam whines from the couch.

“Just a few minutes. Go ahead and set the table. Peg, can you get drinks?”

The next ten minutes are flurry of movements. Sam and Bucky pull the table apart, making room for everyone. Bucky goes in search of extra chairs, whiles Sam pulls dishes from every cabinet in the kitchen. Becca takes the silverware from Sam’s full arms and sets it out by each seat. Peggy pours four glasses of wine and takes two sodas out of the fridge. Steve watches the pizzas, taking them out of the oven at exactly the right time. Following Steve’s instructions, Danny lays potholders on the table for the pizza pans. Steve slides two more pizzas in the oven and starts the timer.

When the kitchen settles down, Steve gives the table another look and grins triumphantly. “Let’s eat.”

Everyone takes a seat and a slice of pizza. Steve, Sam, and Bucky each take two.

Peggy looks at Becca. “How was your drive?”

“Not bad. It was only a few hours.” Becca smiles before taking another bite.

Steve nods. “Well, we’re glad you made it in time for dinner.”

“She has a teenage boy, Steve, she can’t afford to pass up a free meal,” Bucky laughs.

Peggy glances at Sam. “I know the feeling.”

As dinner continues, everyone laughs and shares stories. Sam and Danny make comments to each other and trade glances, laughing at unspoken jokes.

While Steve and Becca do the dishes, Bucky gets a fire started in the pit in the backyard. Peggy, Sam and Danny bring out drinks and marshmallows. When everyone is seated, Sam looks around, around with a deep sigh as memories dance across her mind. Danny chasing her through the kitchen, Tony by her side. Bucky at the bottom of a dogpile in the backyard, throwing all his nieces and nephews off when Steve yelled that dinner was ready. All two dozen of the Barnes-Rogers-Stark clan gathered around the fire pit making s’mores.

Sam smiles as her chest tightens at the memories. She looks at Danny, “You got any plans for the rest of the night?”

Danny chuckles, “You know I just got into town, right?”

“Hey, Dad,” Sam looks at Steve, “Can Danny stay with us tonight?”

Steve glances at Peggy, catching her nod from the corner of his eye, before answering. “If he doesn’t mind sleeping on the couch."

Danny and Sam look at Becca.

She chuckles. “That’s fine with me.” She checks her watch. “On that note, Buck, I’m getting pretty tired.”

He nods and takes a long drink of beer. “Alright. Just give me a minute.”

After Bucky walks inside, Becca’s shoulders drop and she lets out a long, shaky sigh. “Thank you. Tonight was wonderful.” She smiles weakly. “Really.”

Steve nods. Peggy smiles softly, “You’re welcome any time, Becca.”

Becca nods slowly, staring into the fire. “I never thought…”

Danny walks over, taking Becca’s hand. “Maybe I should stay with you tonight, Mom.”

She blinks and looks at Danny, cupping his cheek in her hand. “No, sweetheart. Spend some time with Sam. I’ll be fine with your uncle.” She stands and makes her way inside.

Steve stands. “Sam, are you going to be up for a while?” When she nods in response, he adds, “Make sure to put the fire out.”

“Yeah, I got it.” She smiles as Steve kisses the top of her head on his way inside.

Peggy follows close behind Steve, rubbing Sam’s shoulder as she passes. “Good night, love.”

“Night, Mom.”

Sam and Danny watch the fire quietly for several minutes. After the house goes dark, Sam stands and climbs into her old treehouse.

“What are you doing?” Danny’s eyes follow her.

“Getting something.” Sam sweeps a blanket aside and opens a trap door. “I added a secret compartment last year.” She returns with a grin and a nearly full bottle of tequila.

Danny laughs, “I see you never outgrew the trouble-making.”

“That’s a hard thing to do when you grow up with a Stark.” Her smile fades quickly. “Do you want some or not?”

He takes the bottle. “No cups?”

Sam shakes her head. “I don’t want to risk waking them up if I go back inside.”

He shrugs and takes a gulp straight from the bottle, wincing. “That burns.”

“I’m seventeen. I can’t afford the good stuff.” She cracks up.

He raises his eyebrows. “You buy it yourself?”

She smirks. “I’ve got one of my mom’s old IDs. I know a few places that don’t care too much.”

“My dad would kill me if-” He stops short, taking another long drink. “Would have killed me if he had caught me using a fake ID.”

Sam takes the bottle from him. “Technically, it’s not fake.”

“Stolen is definitely not better.” He shakes his head.

Sam shrugs, “That’s a matter of opinion.”

He bursts into laughter. “It’s a matter of legal consequences.”

“God, you sound like a cop’s kid.” Sam shoves his shoulder.

He smiles briefly, taking the tequila. When she sees how he’s staring into the fire, Sam immediately regrets her comment.

“I was.” He nods. “Not anymore, I guess.”

“Danny, I didn’t mean to-”

“I remember one time,” he doesn’t look away from the flames, “Mom gave me and Stace each a cookie, fresh from the oven. When Stacey told him that I ate hers, he made her prove it. When she couldn’t, he sent her to her room and gave me another cookie.”

Sam smiles, “I remember, whenever you came for a visit, he would sneak me dessert before dinner. Tony too, if he was here.”

“He was always strict about dinner before dessert with me and Stace.”

“Do you remember,” Sam chuckles, “do you remember when Connor took your baseball glove and hid it in the bushes?”

“Dad opened a full-on investigation.” He lifts the tequila bottle to his lips with a smile.

“I’m still convinced he thought he’d prove you lost it.”

“Oh, Aunt Ellie was pissed.” Danny shakes his head, passing Sam the tequila. “She whooped Connor’s ass.”

Sam cracks up. “Right there in front of all of us.”

Danny looks over at her. “Did I ever tell you about the time he helped me and Stacey pull an April Fool’s prank on our middle school principal?”

Sam draws her eyebrows together. “Middle school? He was a real dick, right?”

Danny nods.

“No, I don’t think you did.”

They sit outside and swap stories as the hours pass. Danny does more talking, always finding new stories to make Sam laugh. Sam listens intently, encouraging Danny to keep talking. She adds her own stories when Danny falls silent. Eventually, they progress from stories of Jack to stories of their families, and even stories about friends from school.

As the fire dies, so does conversation. They just watch the smoldering embers, an occasional gust of wind turning them bright red again. Danny looks at the nearly empty bottle and hands it back to Sam. “Sorry.”

“That’s what it’s for.” She nudges it back to him with a shake of her head.

He finishes it off, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I just never thought that-” He takes a deep breath. “That he wouldn’t…”

Sam rubs his shoulder. “No one ever does.”

“It’s just- It can’t be real.” He looks at her, searching her face for some kind of answer. “Right?”

“Danny, I-” Her voice cracks when he looks away with a sniffle. “I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I did.”

“It’s alright. No one does.” He shakes his head, rubbing his nose. “I don’t guess there’s anything you can say. It’s not going to change anything.”

Sam watches silently from her seat. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He drops his head, biting his lip. She can see a teardrop on the tip of his nose, glaring from the faint light. His cheeks look wet.

“He’s not coming home.” He takes a shaky breath. “He’s not going to be there whenever we go back. He’s not going to call and ask where we are. Or yell at me for drinking with you.”

Sam moves to sit on the ground beside Danny’s chair. She gently places a hand on his knee.

“That’s it. Those stories are all I’ll ever have with him.” He rubs a hand up her forearm. “He’s never going to catch me sneaking out again. Or skipping school. He won’t help me do my tie for homecoming or see me graduate. He’ll never know what I become.”

Sam leans her head against his leg. “He’ll know.”

“Yeah, that’s what Mom keeps saying. But right now, it doesn’t help.” Danny leans back in his chair. “Right now, I’d give anything just to see him walk through that gate.”

Sam rubs his leg, struggling to speak through her closing throat. “For what it’s worth, Danny, so would I.”

They sit like that until the embers burn themselves out. The half-moon is the only light left; the only sound is the hum of crickets. Sam waits silently for Danny to make the first move. Several minutes go by before he clears his throat and straightens up.

“Sorry for bringing you down,” he says gruffly.

“Danny, that’s why we’re here.” Sam’s voice is soft and warm. She stands, offering Danny a hand.

He ignores it, pushing himself up and following Sam inside. The couch is already made up with blankets and pillows.

Danny smiles, “Your parents are great.”

Sam nods. “Do you want to wash all that smoke off before you go to sleep? You can use my shower.”

“That would be nice.”

They walk down the hall, and Sam motions to the bathroom. “Towels are in that tall cabinet.”

Sam turns to leave, but then adds, “A guy from the soccer team is doing a bonfire at his uncle’s hunting cabin in a couple weeks. Sort of an ‘end of summer break’ thing.” She points a finger at him, leaving no room for argument. “If you’re still here, you’re going with me.”

He smiles. “That would be fun.”

Sam walks into her room and lays on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She takes a deep breath and turns onto her side. Another deep breath, and onto her back again. She chews on the side of her cheek and wraps her arms around herself, before finally getting out of bed.

She can hear the shower running and walks the opposite direction down the hall. The door is closed, like always. She stares at it for a few seconds, and then knocks softly.

“What’s wrong, love?” Peggy’s sleepy voice floats quietly through the door.

“Can I come in?” Sam’s voice is equally quiet, but not at all tired.

After a few moments of sheets rustling and drawers sliding, Peggy gives Sam permission to enter.

Sam opens the door slowly, and pads across the room. Steve and Peggy are both sitting in the bed, leaned back against the headboard. Sam climbs onto the bed and wraps her arms around Steve.

He pulls her into him with a kiss on her head. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing.” She wraps an arm around Peggy, pulling her in. “I just love you.”

Peggy softens, running a hand through Sam’s hair. “It’s alright, love.”

“Do you have any missions coming up?”

Steve lets out a breath. “I have one next week.”

“Do you have to go?” Sam asks timidly, pulling him closer.

“Yes, baby, I do.” He kisses her hair again. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”

Sam nods weakly, leaning into her parents. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Steve and Peggy exchange uncertain glances over Sam’s head. No words are said. No sounds are made, but they seem to come to an understanding.

“Sure, love.”

“Don’t get comfortable,” Steve adds with a chuckle, “It’s just for tonight.”

Sam nestles in between Steve and Peggy with a content sigh, suddenly feeling six years old again. “Love you.”

She smiles as a kiss is planted on each of her temples, and she hears “I love you” in surround sound. 

* * *

“I still can't believe that’s Tony.” Danny yells over the music. “You weren’t kidding about him changing.”

Sam laughs, “The last time you saw him, he was seven.”

“You’ve always had thing for him. Now’s your chance.” He nudges Sam in Tony’s direction. “Go talk to him.”

Sam doesn’t budge. “No, thank you.” She turns back to Danny, smiling. “Let’s just have a good time.”

“Come on. He’s been looking at you since we got here.”

Sam turns back to Danny, smiling. “No, he’s watching you.” She reaches up and runs her hands along his shoulders. “With your broad shoulders and strong jawline and brooding eyes, gleaming from the fire. Standing so close to me.”

A smirk stretches across his face. “You already took your chance with him didn’t you?”

“You catch on quick.”

He casually twirls a strand of Sam’s hair in his fingers. “He’s still into you.”

“I’m sure.” She rolls her eyes. “He never got what he wanted.”

“You think he recognizes me?” He brushes his fingers over her cheekbone. “This little charade won’t work if he does.”

Sam shrugs. “Would you have known him if I didn’t point him out when he showed up?”

“No, probably not.” He tips his head in Tony’s direction. “Who’s that chick?”

Sam turns to see Tony’s arms wrapped around the blonde girl perched in his lap, tracing along his jaw and toying with his hair. “His next target, no doubt.”

Danny watches for a moment. “She’s blitzed.”

“Let’s follow her lead.” Sam smiles, walking off. “I don’t want to talk about Tony anymore, and you’re going home soon. You need a proper sendoff.” Sam glances back at Tony, her face burning hot when she sees him making out with the blonde.

She can’t help thinking about when he kissed her like that. His hands firm around her waist, pulling her closer. His lips eager to kiss along cheek and down her jaw. The occasional scrape of his teeth against her neck. His hands roaming up her back, fingers tangling in her hair. Her hair. Not some dumb blonde’s.

Her nostrils flare as she huffs out a breath. He doesn’t even like blondes.

She shakes her head as they walk to the edge of the grassy clearing to a picnic table full of coolers. Danny grabs two beers, passing one to Sam.

She laughs, grabbing a second one. “Super-metabolism.”

“That sucks for you.” He takes a drink.

“It’s not so bad after you know what you’re doing.” She shrugs. “But, hold on just a second.” She cracks open a beer and chugs the whole thing, making a face. She grabs another beer from the cooler. “I have to get a jump start if I want a buzz before the night’s over.”

He laughs following Sam to sit near the bonfire, away from the noise.

“Didn’t Tony’s dad make a move on your mom once?” He grunts as he squats down to sit on a log beside Sam. “Before your parents were together.”

Sam snorts. “Only once.”

“And your dad was cool with you and Tony?”

Sam bursts into laughter so loud, she draws several questioning looks. When she composes herself, she asks, “Do you remember when you dared me to kiss Oliver right in front of my dad?”

Danny nearly chokes on his beer. “Oh, god. That was hilarious!”

“He was more ‘cool' with that than with Tony.”

Danny smiles, finishing off his beer. “Should I grab you another too?” He motions toward the half empty bottle in her hand.

She holds up a finger, bringing the bottle to her lips. She finishes it off with another scowl. “You can take this too.”

“You know, no one’s forcing you to drink so fast.”

“I have to if it’s going to be worth it.” She waves him away.

A few minutes later, she’s staring intently at the fire when a bottle is passed over her shoulder. She takes it without turning around.

“Took you long enough.” Her voice is playful. “I was starting to think you left without me .”

“Baby, if I’d known you were waiting on me, I’d have been here an hour ago.” He tugs at her hair.

Sam jumps up, spinning around. “Michael, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I came to talk. But if you’re ready to leave, I’m happy to take you.” He smiles, showing off his straight, white teeth.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she growls.

“Come on. I can show you a good time.” He licks his lips, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.

Sam softens. “Well, why didn’t you just say you wanted me to break your other ankle?” She sits back down when she sees his dumbfounded look.

Michael rolls his shoulders back, and his expression tightens. “So, you’re just a Stark slut, then?” He walks away, pushing past Danny.

Danny clears his throat before sitting down beside her. “Guess you don’t need this one now.” He holds up one of the beers he came back with.

She snatches it from his hand and opens it. “I need it now more than ever.” She drains the whole thing and opens the beer she already had.

Danny watches carefully as she nearly finishes that one too. “Maybe you should slow down.”

“Relax. It’s really like I only had two.”

“Yeah, but you had them really fast.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

He sighs, “Alright, but you’re at least going to tell me what that was about.”

She opens her fifth beer and takes a long drink. “That was Michael. My ex.”

He nods, raising his bottle. “I got that from the boot on his foot.”

Sam smiles, “We dated for a couple months. He cheated on me, and we broke up. Not too long after that, Tony asked me out.”

“Angsty teen boy. Got it,” he laughs, “What about Tony?”

She smiles into her beer, then swallows her drink hard. “He got kicked out of the Academy for…certain indiscretions.” She picks her way through the sentence carefully. “We dated for a few months, and he tried to pull that shit on me.”

Danny nods silently. After a few more sips, he asks. “Who ended it?”

“Me. Not that I wanted to.” Sam shakes her head. “I don’t know. It’s just- it’s like it was just some game. Something for him to prove.”

She watches the flames dance around the fire pit, consuming the wood inside. A small log crumbles, sending sparks and ash into the air. The crackling of the fire mingles with the hum of quiet conversations and an occasional yell from the party group in the clearing.

“You know what’s worse?” Sam asks absently. “If he had just told me, I think I would’ve been okay with it. I would’ve stood by him. We were friends forever. I deserved to know. If he had just-" She shakes her head gently. “But he didn’t. And it just feels like the whole thing was a lie. And I’m just a notch in a belt I didn’t even know about.”

“But, you said you didn’t-”

“It doesn’t matter what actually happened. It only matters what people think. And Michael seems pretty set on making people think it happened.”

They finish their drinks in silence, and Sam leaves to get them each another. On her way to the cooler, one of the guys from her team calls her over.

“Rogers, who’s the new guy?”

Sam smiles, “That’s Danny. Our families have been friends for a very long time.”

“Is that the same one I saw you at the drive-in with last weekend?” The comment is followed by raised eyebrows, whistles, and surprised laughter.

“Oh, knock it off.” She quiets them with a wave. “Yes, Williams, and just like I told you then, it’s not like that.”

“That’s what you said about Stark, too.”

Sam glares across the semicircle. “Because that worked out so well. Thanks for bringing it up, Clark.”

He shrugs. “Well, he’s not Stark.”

Williams jumps back in, “Yeah, Rogers. It’s been over a month.”

Another teammate adds, “Are you ever going to date again?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Look, guys, this is fun and all, but I’m sobering up. Catch you around.”

She comes back with a beer for Danny and two for herself.

She smiles, “Are you any good at beer pong?”

“Any good?” Danny scoffs, standing up.

Sam laughs as they walk away.

“I think Mom wants to move back.”

Sam looks at him, eyes wide.

“I keep hearing her talk to Uncle Bucky about how hard it’s going to be on her own and wanting to be closer to family.”

Sam grins. “You think she wants to live here?”

“She really enjoyed dinner with your family last week. I think she’d like to be close again.”

“Danny, that’s so exciting!” Sam skips along next to him.

“Yeah,” Danny smiles, putting a hand on her shoulder to keep her still. “Now, stop it. You’re embarrassing me.”

Sam punches his arm. “Killjoy.”


	9. Do You Fondue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets jealous and tries to win Sam back.  
Includes: some Grade A Howard Stark parenting, soft Tony-Jarvis moments, Steve "overprotective father" Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out a lot longer than I thought it would.

Tony’s helping the soccer team add more ice and beer to the coolers when a familiar giggle grabs his attention. His breath catches, as he turns in her direction. Now is the perfect opportunity to finally talk things out. His hope fades when he sees Sam clinking beers with a some other guy.

She’s so popular, and Tony hardly knows anyone. She’s been with the same kids since Tony left for boarding school in middle school. They're starting senior year, and she knows everyone. When he got there, he only had two months to make friends before school got out, and most of them were Sam’s friends. He still hangs out with her friends, otherwise he wouldn’t be here, but she didn’t seem to want to be anywhere near him. So, it’s awkward for the friends caught in the middle.

“Hey, Stark, either take her home or get back to helping.”

Tony turns around to see Nick, or Williams, Sam always used his last name. He’s struggling to carry a full cooler from the cabin. Tony runs over and grabs one side of the cooler.

“You know damn well she’d kick my ass if I tried.”

“Oh, for sure.” Nick laughs, “Between you and me, I think she’s hoping you will.”

“She’s always looking for a fight.” Tony shakes his head. “Don’t even know how I ended up on the wrong end of it.”

Nick smiles as they set the cooler down. “Women, right?”

Tony pulls two beers out of the cooler and tosses one to Nick, glancing back at Sam. “So, she hasn’t said anything?”

“She doesn’t talk about it.” Nick shakes his head. “Let’s get back to the party.”

Tony follows him to a few chairs on the edge of the clearing. As Tony sits, he scans the area. Most of the partygoers are dancing in the clearing. There’s a handful of guests talking by the fire, and a few more playing beer pong on the other side of the clearing.

Sam is standing in the tree line smiling up at the same boy as before. Although, the way she’s massaging his arms, Tony gets the feeling she doesn’t call him a boy. And the way he twirls Sam’s hair, gives the impression he likes that. Tony can feel his face heat up. He clenches his jaw and looks away. “Hey, who is that with Sam? I haven’t seen him around before.”

Nick looks over briefly. “Don’t know. But if I were you, I’d be paying more attention to that blonde over there giving you the eyes.”

Tony follows Nick’s gaze. “Not really my type.”

Nick groans, “Come on, Tony. She’s moved on. You should too.

“It’s a party. She’s just having fun. Doesn’t mean there’s anything there.” Tony glances back at the blonde, who takes that as a cue to approach.

She stumbles over, practically falling into Tony’s lap. “You’re the Stark kid, right?” She's so drunk, she nearly falls over.

Tony grabs her waist, holding her upright. “Yeah,” he smiles as politely as he can manage.

“I'm Shirley.” She runs her fingers through his hair and over his face. “And, you are gorgeous.” She bites her bottom lip, raising an eyebrow.

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.” Tony gently pulls her hand from his face, looking to Nick for help. Nick is nowhere in sight.

Shirley takes Tony’s chin in her hand and turns his face back to her. “You don’t need to look anywhere else. We can do whatever you want.” She pulls him toward her, pressing her lips against his.

She’s not just drunk, she’s high. He can smell the earthy fumes in her hair and taste the sweet char on her tongue. He pushes her back, glancing back to the tree line. Sam’s gone. Hopefully she didn’t see him.

“Listen, sweetheart. That’s a great offer, and I’m sure someone here will take you up on it, but I’m not interested.”

She stands up with a scoff and slaps him before walking away. As Tony rubs his cheek, Nick approaches.

“Oh, now you show up.” Tony rolls his eyes.

Nick laughs, “What the hell did you say?”

“I told her no.” Tony stands and begins walking to the coolers.

“She slapped you because you wouldn’t bang her?”

Tony chuckles, “Yeah, that’s a first for me too.”

Nick shakes his head. “I would give anything to be you.”

Tony takes some ice from the cooler and presses it against his face. “Right now, I would gladly trade.” When his eyes catch Sam sitting by the fire, leaning into her new friend, he grabs a beer and turns away. “Let’s get back to the party. There’s got to be a girl more my type somewhere in there.”

Nick slaps him on the back. “Now you’re talking.”

As they walk towards the music, they pass Michael with a few of his friends.

“Hey, Stark, who’s Sam’s new friend?”

“Don’t know.” Tony shrugs without stopping. “Not my business.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Michael runs after them. “I want to talk, man to man.”

Tony stops, turning to face Michael. “Okay. What is it?”

“How’d you do it?”

Tony stares at him with pinched eyebrows.

“I’m going to try again. I was hoping for a little advice.”

Tony continues to stare. “For God’s sake, Michael, just get to your point.”

He sighs. “You got her into bed. I couldn’t.”

“Oh my God.” Tony cracks up. “You want to know how to fuck Sam?” He takes a deep breath. “First, you go to hell.”

Michael gives Tony a grimace. “You know, she doesn’t belong to you anymore, Stark.” He stalks away from them.

“She never did.” Tony shakes his head.

“What?” Nick glances at Tony as they approach the large mass of drunk teenagers.

“We never did.” Tony raises his voice. “Just, you know, want to set the record straight.”

Nick nods. “Well, there’s plenty of choices tonight.”

Tony smiles, looking around. He scans the crowd four times before his eyes land on a redhead with a beer in her hand. She looks familiar.

He ventures over to her. “Hey, you look kind of familiar. Did we have class together last year?”

She studies his face. “English, maybe?”

“See, I thought we had chemistry.” He smiles smoothly.

She grins back, swaying. She grabs Tony’s shoulder to steady herself. “Michelle.”

“Tony.” He puts his hands on her hips to help her stand still. “Do you want to dance, Michelle?”

She bites her lip. “I was hoping that’s where this conversation was going.”

Tony leads her into the crowd with a hand on her back. “Honey, it can go wherever you want.”

She giggles. “A few more drinks and we’ll see.”

Michelle may have been shy in class, but after a few beers she’s a firecracker. As soon as they get to the center of the crowd, she has her free hand all over Tony. She pulls him in close, tousling his hair, feeling his biceps, roaming up and down his waist. She turns around and presses her back into his chest.

Tony holds her by the hips, half because he wants her close and half because he’s afraid she’ll fall on her face. He laughs to himself at her drunken clumsiness; it’s quite amusing. Sam has rarely ever been that drunk.

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. When he feels Michelle’s hair tickling his lips, he opens his eyes, nuzzling into her neck. He nips at her skin gently, leaving a trail of small red marks. She moans lightly and leans against him.

When she turns around, she holds up an empty bottle. “Care to walk me back for another?”

Tony smiles, “Wherever you want to go.”

She takes his hand and leads him out of the crowd. When they get away from the chaos, Tony pulls her back and wraps an arm around her shoulders. He turns his head to look past her when he hears Sam shriek. She’s jumping up and down alongside that same guy. God knows what he said to make her that happy.

He looks back at Michelle, and his heart drops. He lets out a deep breath. This must be what settling feels like.

He grabs two beers and sits on the ground beside Michelle. He passes her a bottle, and she immediately launches into a soliloquy about some cheerleader. Maybe. He isn’t really paying attention. He closes his eyes and nods along.

Sam didn’t talk this much. Ever. Even as a kid. She’s always been a quiet observer. A skill she, no doubt, picked up from her mother. She would sit and watch, waiting until she had enough information before she acted. That’s what made her such a good leader on their missions. When they were still working together. Recently, the Iron Man suit has been nothing more than the center of Howard’s experimentation.

Michelle bumps his shoulder, drawing him back to the present. She’s still talking, unfazed by his lack of interest. She doesn’t even seem to pause for breath. He can’t take it anymore.

He leans forward, pulling her into him, and kisses her. She presses closer and runs her tongue across his cupid’s bow.

She pulls back, smiling. “You’re every bit as forward as they say, Mr. Stark.”

He smirks. “I can’t help it when I’m looking at someone so beautiful.”

“Charming too. Get me another drink, and I'll charm you back.” She slurs her words and reaches for Tony’s arm to keep from swaying.

He passes her his nearly full beer, worried she’ll hurt herself if he leaves. “I’d hate to leave your side, even for a second.”

She kisses his cheek before raising the bottle to her lips. She shimmies closer to Tony, swinging her legs across his lap. He wraps one arm around her back and rubs her legs with the other. He runs his fingers up her thigh, stopping at the hem of her dress.

She raises her eyebrows. “So polite.”

“My dad taught me not to take things that haven’t been offered.” He shrugs.

Her eyes follow the circles his fingers are tracing over her skin. “Then how do you ever get what you want?”

He looks up at her with dark eyes. “He never said not to ask.”

He leans in, kissing her again. He draws his hand up to her waist and pulls her into his lap. When she tilts her head to the side, Tony starts working his way down her neck. His lips brush lightly across her collarbone, eliciting a giggle from between her lips. She pulls away to finish her drink.

Tony chuckles as she sways. “You’re not going to remember anything tomorrow, are you?”

The corner of her mouth quirks up. “That really depends on you.”

He kisses her again, taking the bottle from her hands and tossing it aside. She jumps when it crashes against a tree. He pushes on her hips, signaling her to get up, then leads her into the trees. They walk just far enough to be out of sight, when she squeezes his hand to stop him. He turns to face her, pushing her back against a tree. He leans into her neck, brushing his lips against her skin, the warmth of his breath sending chills through her. She puts her hands on his hips pulling him closer. His hands cup around her face, to pull her deeper into a kiss.

She lets out a faint whimper when he bites her lip, and he chuckles, “God, I love you.”

His eyes fly open, and he immediately steps back. “Oh my God.” He closes his eyes gently with a huff. “Sam.”

“Sorry. Who?” Her voice cracks, and her face turns red. When he doesn't answer, she slaps him across the cheek and storms away.

Tony lays a hand on his face and groans to himself. “Yeah, that one I'm familiar with.”

He trudges out of the woods, reaching the clearing just in time to see Sam stumbling toward the cars with her new boyfriend. Tony’s blood runs hot, and he chases them down.

“Sam,” he yells, approaching the pair from behind.

She turns around, tripping over her own feet. She lets out a high-pitched giggle as the boyfriend grabs her hips. “I wouldn't be so drunk if you were better at beer pong.” She smacks his chest, her hand lingering while she waits for Tony to catch up.

She's barely holding herself up. “Dear God, Sam. How did you get so drunk on beer?” Tony eyes her boyfriend, something nagging at the back of his mind.

“My beer pong partner, here,” she smacks his chest again, “only remembered he had to drive after we started the game.” She hiccups. “And the other assholes insisted I take his drinks to even the playing field.”

“Sam,” he pries her out of the friend’s hands and walks her a few feet away, “what are you doing with this guy?”

She stiffens. “What the fuck do you care?”

He grabs her by the shoulders and looks into her eyes. “Sam, please don't get into a car with him.”

Sam throws her head back laughing. “That’s rich coming from you. You just walked out of the woods with some chick you just met.” She pulls out of his grip. “At least you found a redhead. I know you don’t like blondes.”

His stomach knots, but he continues. “Sam, this isn’t who you are.”

“Guess you haven’t heard.” She looks him in the eyes, momentarily sober. “This is exactly who I am now. Because of you.”

She stumbles back to the other man, who quickly wraps his arms back around her. He looks back at Tony with a glare before walking Sam up the hill to the improvised parking lot.

Tony kicks at the dirt before stalking into the cabin. He paces the living room while he sobers up. He kicks absently at the furniture, murmuring to himself. “So stupid…said I fucking love you…used a goddamn line on her…what kind of asshole uses ‘I love you' as a line…playing with a girl’s emotions just to get her naked.” He sinks into the couch. “You fucking asshole.”

He drops his head into his hands, still cursing at himself under his breath.

* * *

Tony sits in the bleachers watching soccer practice after school. His stomach is doing somersaults. He hasn’t talked to Sam since that party, and he’s only seen her in passing at school. But he can’t keep avoiding her.

The team has a unique flow, since they’re only allowed to have nine players while Sam’s on the field. She dominates midfield with the defenders moving in to cover it as necessary. On occasion, even one of the forwards will fall back to assist. All the players have to cover more ground than they would on a traditional team. Even Sam struggles to keep up.

They’re currently playing a mini-scrimmage, six on three. Sam is on a team with a sophomore, who is allowed to practice on the varsity team while Michael’s ankle heals. The new kid seems to be struggling with how to complement Sam’s playing style. Sam has to be more aggressive than normal to make up for his inexperience.

As Sam chases the ball toward their goal, the sophomore lags behind. “Just stay here, I’ll kick it back to you.” She charges full speed to reach the ball before the other team.

Tony watches on the edge of his seat. Nick is running in from left field, where he had been waiting. Sam is sprinting down the middle of the field, coming in hot. She’s almost there when Nick kicks the ball into the air toward Clark, who’s near the goal. Focused completely on regaining possession, Sam skids in front of the goal. Tony jumps to his feet as Clark launches himself into a flying kick in an attempt to score. The crunch is audible as Clark’s foot strikes Sam’s nose. She drops to the ground, covering her face.

“Sam!” Tony yells, running down the bleachers two at a time. He promises to himself that he’ll run more from now on. He vaults over the fence with grunt. The suit made everything seem so easy. By the time he gets to the field, Sam has been surrounded. Tony begins shoving his way through the players when he hears Michael snickering behind him.

“Looks like Stark’s not the only one who can get Rogers on her knees.”

Tony whirls around and throws his fist into Michael’s face. Michael stumbles backward, off-balance from the boot on his leg. An elbow in his back shoves Tony to the ground. He rolls forward and stands back up, facing his new opponent. One of Michael’s friends, Harrison. Tony lunges forward, wrapping his arms around Harrison’s torso. They hit the ground together, Tony on top. He lands one punch on Harrison’s jaw, the next two are blocked by his wrists.

Before he can throw a fourth punch, he’s hauled backward by the collar. He’s thrown flat on his back, and Michael is quickly on top of him. Michael throws both fists in quick succession, one hits Tony’s left cheek, the other square on the jaw. Tony bucks his hips, easily throwing Michael over his head. They grapple on the ground, each landing several more blows to the face and torso before the rest of the team drags them apart.

Tony lets them pull him back but jerks out of their grip as soon as he’s standing again. He turns in a full circle, scanning the field for Sam. “Is she-” he pants heavily, “She alright?”

With no answer, Tony continues searching. Clark is seated on the bench, face pale. Tony sits down next to him, noticing his hands shaking.

Clark doesn’t look up. “I think I broke her nose.” He wrings his hands to hide the shaking. “I hope that’s all.”

“She’s tough. I’m sure it’s alright.” Tony’s laugh is unconvincing.

“There was so much blood. For anyone else, I’d say it’s normal when you get hit in the face like that. But Sam.” Clark shakes his head. “I’ve never seen her bleed like that.”

Tony pats Clark’s shoulder. “She’ll heal. She always does.” He looks around again. “Do you know where she is?”

Clark jerks his head toward the school. “They brought her in to get ice and bandages. Coach is calling her parents.”

Tony thanks him and jogs toward the building. Just as he reaches the front door, the coach walks out with the principal, Harrison trailing behind.

“Just who we were looking for,” Principal Andrews says, grabbing Tony’s shoulder. “My office.”

Coach Lewis keeps walking. “I’ll get Rainey.”

Tony groans, but at least they’re bringing Michael in too.

Andrews waves to the chairs in the hall outside his office. “Wait here while I call your parents.”

“Can I get some ice from the cafeteria first?” Tony lifts a hand, gesturing to his already puffy cheek and jaw.

Andrews nods. On his way, Tony stops to look himself over in the bathroom mirror. His lip is bloody and swollen. He traces a hand along the bruise on his jaw, then around the split in his cheek. Noticing the bruising on his knuckles, he drops his hand to examine it. The knuckles on both hands have been skinned raw. They’re already bruising and may even be broken.

He lifts his shirt, finding several red marks across his back and abdomen. Those will definitely be bruises tomorrow. Deep ones. He groans as he drops his shirt and stands up straight.

He continues on to the cafeteria, hoping to see Sam. The large room is dark and empty. His shoulders drop, and he makes his way to the kitchen. After filling a bag with ice, he wraps it in a towel and presses it to his face, heading back to the principal’s office. He couldn’t help chuckling at how ridiculous he must look with more than half his face bruised and bloody. But, what a story it’ll be.

As he gets closer to the principal’s office, he hears Jarvis talking. Howard must be too busy to sort this out. What a surprise.

Tony stops in his tracks. His stomach drops. Steve’s voice.

He rounds the corner cautiously, not daring to address the men. He plops silently into a chair and waits. Jarvis sits beside Tony, but doesn’t speak. Steve leans against the lockers, brooding quietly. All that can be heard is the quiet murmur of voices in the Principal’s office.

Shrill beeping cuts through the heavy silence. Steve takes a phone out of his pocket and walks down the hallway. Howard must still be working out the bugs with the volume control.

“How bad is it?” Tony doesn’t look at Jarvis.

“Your father didn’t seem surprised, but Principal Andrews was already in a meeting when I got here, so I can’t be sure.”

"Alright." Tony nods. “I meant Sam, though. Sounded bad.”

“Ah.” Jarvis takes a breath. “Steve seems pretty concerned. She was bleeding rather profusely, even when I arrived. Peggy took her to SHIELD to get looked at.”

Tony continues nodding. Thankful when Steve returns with an update.

“Broken nose and fractured orbital socket. They said heavy bleeding is common. Her accelerated cellular regeneration means there was more blood to lose.”

Tony looks up. “So, she’s okay?”

“They’re still concerned about nerve damage, but yeah.” Steve nods. “We’ll probably keep her home a couple days just to be sure.”

“Well, Clark feels awful.”

“It’s not entirely his fault.” Steve chuckles. “Peggy got a few good hits with a lamp in during training this morning. We probably shouldn’t have let her go to practice today, just didn’t expect her to get kicked in the face.”

Jarvis cocks an eyebrow. “Why was Mrs. Rogers using a lamp?”

“We made a deal with Sam. If she can beat Peggy in a fight, she can go into there field,” Steve huffs, rubbing his head.

Jarvis looks at Steve eyes wide. “You'll kill her.”

"Edwin, she wants to go on missions where real enemies will be really trying to kill her." Steve shakes his head. "They're not going to pass up a weapon just because she's a kid."

Before Jarvis can make a comment, Andrews opens his door and lets Michael and his parents out. “Please wait while I speak with Mr. Stark.” He waves Steve, Jarvis, and Tony in.

After they all take a seat, Andrews looks at Tony. “Michael says you attacked him, and, given his injuries, I’m inclined to believe him.”

Tony doesn’t answer.

“Mr. Stark, who took the first swing?”

“I did.” He starts fidgeting with his hands.

Jarvis sighs heavily, and Steve jumps in. “Why exactly am I here?”

“Because your daughter seems to be in the middle of all this.” Andrews looks back to Tony. “He claims you’re jealous that he’s making up with Sam. You were waiting for him to leave, but with all the commotion, you took your chance early.”

Steve groans.

“That’s ridiculous! They’re not even making up. Sam can’t stand him.” Tony nearly jumps out of his seat.

“Then why were you at practice?” Andrews rubs his temples.

Tony flounders for a moment, searching for a cover story before conceding. “Sam and I broke up because I was stupid. I just wanted to apologize. She’s my best friend.”

Steve’s expression softens, but he stays silent.

“Then, can you please explain to me why you attacked Mr. Rainey?”

“He deserved it.” Tony shrugs.

“I’m going to need more than that.”

Tony sighs. “He was…he was being an asshole.”

“This isn’t a game, Stark. Tell me what happened exactly.”

Tony looks to Jarvis, who gives him a nod with eyebrows raised. “He, um...well...I-” He glances at Steve, then looks back to his hands. “I’d really rather not.”

Andrews looks at Steve. “Mr. Rogers, you can go.”

“No, I’d like to see how this plays out.” Steve scoffs, “Since my daughter is so deeply involved.”

Andrews heaves a sigh. “Tony, I’m trying my very best to determine what truly happened out there. If you refuse to tell me your side, I have to believe it’s because Michael was right.”

Tony bites his lip, refusing to look up. “He said…um…he...he- he made a comment about Sam being on her knees.”

The room falls still. Wood cracks as Steve grips the armrest of his chair. Tony can’t bring himself to look up.

“I see.” Andrews leans forward, resting his arms on the desk, rubbing a hand down his face. “I have no reason to believe you would make that up.”

“Right.” Jarvis clears his throat. “Are we done here?”

Andrews nods. “You can all go. I'll speak with the Raineys in a moment.”

Steve shoves past Tony and Jarvis, storming all the way out the front door. Tony follows Jarvis, head down and shoulders slumped.

“He shouldn’t have had to hear that.”

“He's not angry with you, Anthony.” Jarvis pats his shoulder. “And I'm quite proud of you.”

Tony shakes his head. “It's my fault.”

“Nonsense, Anthony.You do not have the influence you think you do.”

When they get outside, Steve is leaning against the car. “Thanks for the ride. If I had to wait here for Peggy, I might throttle that kid.”

Jarvis nods as he slides behind the wheel. The ride is painfully silent. Tony catches a glimpse of Steve's strained expression in the mirror and returns to fidgeting with his fingers.

When they arrive at the Rogers' house, Steve thanks Jarvis again and climbs out of the car. Tony sits in the backseat chewing on the side of his cheek.

Just as Jarvis puts the car in reverse, Tony leans forward. “Hey, just give me a minute.” He jumps out and runs after Steve. “Mr. Rogers.”

Steve turns around with an eyebrow raised.

“I, um…I'm sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “I really hoped my reputation from the Academy would stay there, and I could start over. Do better. I never meant to drag Sam down with me. I just…she shouldn't-” He looks up to meet Steve’s eyes. “Would you tell her I'm sorry?”

Steve nods. “I appreciate that, Tony. Really.”

Tony smiles sadly and walks back to the car. Before he opens the passenger door, Steve adds, “I also appreciate you standing up for her today.”

Tony’s smile grows with a nod. “She's my best friend.”

* * *

It’s a great night for a drive on the motorcycle. The stars are shining bright in the clear sky. The moon is just a sliver, providing a soft, romantic light. The air is starting to chill. Maybe he could talk Sam into going with him.

Tony’s stomach clenches more and more as he approaches the Rogers' house. He didn’t tell them he was coming over. He was afraid Sam would tell him no. He didn’t want to come over so late on a Saturday but he heard yesterday’s announcement at school that soccer practice was moved because of the rain. And he didn’t want to interrupt their family dinner. So here he is, and Steve is sure to complain, but Sam’s all that matters right now.

He slows to a stop at the end of the long driveway, climbing off his bike to walk a little closer. Tony can see them clearly under the front porch light. Sam’s standing with her date, his hands on her waist. She’s wearing a deep blue, strapless evening gown with a matching corsage. Her hair flows in loose curls pulled neatly to one side. Peggy’s doing, no doubt. He’s too far away to see any detail, but with that outfit she’s certainly wearing makeup. Probably her favorite cherry red lipstick.

Tony’s heart sinks. If there was any doubt about the relationship, it was shattered when Sam leans in and kisses him softly. Tony turns back to his bike with a deep breath. His throat closes, and his chest fills with a crushing weight. He sits on his bike for a few moments regaining control of his lungs.

He blinks the misty haze from his eyes, and straightens up. Distant laughter fills the air, and he has to force himself to breathe again. He pushes the bike down the road, so Sam won't hear the engine start. He drives home, mind racing through memories from the last few weeks. It must be that guy from the bonfire. He remembers overhearing Sam say something to her friend about homecoming in the hall, but homecoming isn't for two more weeks. Nick and Clark had been teasing her last week before first period about a date that wasn't a date.

It doesn't matter. The point remains, she's happy. The way she laughed when he was leaving. Tony hadn’t made her laugh that loud since they were kids. That mystery man must really be something special. By the time he gets home, the pain in his chest is almost tolerable.

Inside, he stalks right past Jarvis and down to the lab. He’s relieved to find it empty, flipping the switches and waiting for the lights to flicker to life. He rolls a stool up to the Iron Man suit and begins checking it over. He goes over every hinge and every bolt twice. 

Convinced no one has tampered with it, he moves to the workbench along the wall. Pushing away the memory of Sam sitting on this table with her legs wrapped around him, he flips through some of Howard's latest diagrams.

“Hm. This one's good,” he grunts, grabbing a pencil. He makes a few marks and corrects one equation before spinning around on the stool.

He jumps, dropping the paper and pencil. “Jesus, Jarvis. What are you doing down here?”

Jarvis rolls his eyes. “My apologies. I didn't realize I was confined to the upper levels.”

“Did you want to help?”

Jarvis smiles, “I always want to help you, Anthony.”

Tony waves him over, picking out a few wrenches and the soldering iron. Jarvis looks through the contents of a small table. Various nuts, bolts, screws and other small parts. He wheels it over to the suit beside Tony.

“What's the plan?”

Tony shows him the diagram. “Dad worked out a way for the suit to assemble itself.”

Jarvis raises his eyebrows. “With you inside?”

Tony chuckles. “With a few modifications, yes.”

Tony pulls another diagram from the workbench. “I don't think he intended these two to pair together, but I think it could work.”

Jarvis looks over the images. “Bracelets?”

Tony groans, “Well, hopefully a little more masculine, but yeah.”

“These are the locator beacons your father designed for Mrs. Rogers when she was still doing field work.” He pinches his eyebrows. “They were scrapped because-”

“Because Dad overdid the ‘covert' part, so the beacon can only be detected by its specific companion receiver.”

“Not highly useful when you turn up half way around the world from the only receiver.”

“Right, but that won’t- Wait, did that happen?”

“More than once.” Jarvis nods casually. “Fortunately after the first time, she was smart enough to take a back up locator.”

Tony’s mouth hangs open. “How did they find her?”

“She found them.”

Tony shakes his head. “That’s incredible.”

“She is indeed.” Jarvis looks sideways at Tony. “As is her daughter.”

Tony stiffens, but continues working. “Yeah, I guess.”

“What happened tonight?” Jarvis passes Tony the soldering iron.

“Nothing.” He shrugs.

“Anthony, you left here the happiest you’ve been in months and came back in a rather foul mood.”

Tony sets the iron down. “She was on a date. Something real nice, black tie. When I got there, they were kissing goodnight on the front porch.”

“Well, she’s not married. Try again tomorrow.”

Tony shakes his head. “She’s happy. You should’ve heard her laugh.”

“And she can’t be happy with you?”

“I don’t know, Jarvis.” He sighs. “Were you going to help me or just talk all night?”

Jarvis sighs. “I’m afraid I’ve done all I can for today. Ana will be expecting me soon. I told her I’d be on my way as soon as you were home safe.”

Tony resumes soldering as Jarvis walks to the stairs.

“Anthony,” Tony continues working, “sometimes one moves on because they believe it’s the only choice they’ve got.” Jarvis watches Tony for another moment. When he doesn’t get a reaction, he leaves Tony to work.

Tony spends an hour going over every detail of the schematics. He begins a new design, adjusting equations and measurements to fit the Iron Man suit. His mind drifts back to Sam, wondering if she knows he was trying to make up with her. Did Steve ever apologize for him?

He erases a calculation and corrects his mistake. Does she even know he was at her practice? That he’s still on her side? He makes another correction and continues.

After five more mistakes, he drops his pencil on the table and runs his hands through his hair. What if she doesn’t know. “Maybe Jarvis was right,” Tony whispers to himself.

He pushes himself away from the workbench and goes upstairs to change. He scrubs the grease off his arms and puts on a fresh shirt and pants. On his way to the garage, he grabs the keys to the Riviera. His motorcycle would definitely wake Steve up; in fact, he’ll probably still park halfway down the driveway.

When Tony arrives at the Rogers' house, he begins walking to the front door, planning to disable the security system like he used to do. After remembering how hostile Sam has been toward him recently, he decides it's best not to walk into the house without permission. He sneaks around the back and taps on Sam’s window instead. There is no answer after a few minutes, and the room is dark, so he taps harder. This time he can hear movement inside. A lamp turns on. Sam opens the window halfway with a knife in her hand.

“Whoa!” Tony steps back. “Careful, Sam, you’ll kill somebody.”

“What are you doing here?” she hisses back.

“I need to talk to you.” He steps back to the window. “Can I come in?”

Sam takes a step back reaching a hand out to pull him through the window. They sit on the bed facing each other. Sam lays a pillow across her lap, covering her too short sleeping shorts.

“You look a lot better.” The only evidence of the incident at practice is the tape across her nose and a scrape above her eyebrow. The bruising around her eye is barely noticeable.

“You look like hell.” She takes him by the chin, turning his head so she can look at his whole face. Bruises cover most of it. His lip is still puffy on the side that split open. The cut on his cheek has only begun to close.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he begins after a few minutes of silence. “While I was gone, I did things I thought I’d be proud because that’s what my dad was proud of in school. But, I am not my dad, and I’m anything but happy with the decisions I made there. I was actually really excited to come back and have a chance to start over. And then you- you took my breath away. Being back here with you just felt… it felt… right.”

Sam’s reddening cheeks make Tony stumble, but he pushes on.

“And then, the, the…the _escapades_,” Tony mocks Jarvis, “Sam, I was so happy. With you. You mean- everything. You mean everything to me.” He takes her hand and looks into her eyes. “I never wanted to make you feel like those other girls. That’s never what you were. You’ve always been my best friend, and I never meant to treat you like that. I just-” He shakes his head. “I got caught up. It was just a bad habit. A really bad habit. I didn’t mean to use a line on you or make you feel like I just wanted to-” He swallows to wet his throat. “I don’t know, maybe it was just a line at the time, but it’s not now.”

He gently takes Sam’s chin, turning her face to him. She’s bright red, and her chest is heaving with every shallow breath.

He chuckles, “Samantha Michelle, I love you.”

She half smiles, looking away. “Oh.”

His smile drops. “What’s wrong?”

“I just- I don’t…know…yet.”

He looks away, scanning the room for something to focus on. “It’s okay.”

“Tony, I’m sorry,” she answers softly.

“So, how serious are things with this new guy?” He sighs with a weak smile.

She cocks her head to the side. “What guy?”

“The one from the party. That all your friends have been talking about. I assume he’s the same one.”

“You mean Danny?” Sam chokes out between laughs.

Sam can see the light go off in Tony’s head. “That was Danny? Holy shit.”

She smiles, “There it is.”

“So, you’re with Danny now?”

“No.” Sam shakes her head, smile fading. “His dad died over the summer. I was just trying to keep him distracted.”

“You were all over him.”

“I was drunk,” she smiles again, “and watching you.”

He smirks briefly. “Sam, I- I came by earlier to apologize to you. And I saw you with him.”

“They just moved a couple counties over. He's only been at that school for two weeks.” She shrugs. “He didn't want to miss his last homecoming dance because he didn't know anyone. Mom was thrilled.”

Tony doesn't meet her eyes. “Sam, I saw that kiss.”

“Oh.” Sam looks away. “Right. I just…thought…We’ve been friends for a long time, Tony. I just thought we both deserved to see if anything was there.”

“And?”

“We both had a good laugh.”

Tony releases the breath he was holding. “So, can we, maybe, try again?”

“I’d like that.” Sam nods, then chews on her bottom lip. “And, um…Thanks for standing up to Michael.”

He flushes. “You’re dad told you?”

“He didn't have to.” She clears her throat, but can't quite hide the crack in her voice. “I was there.”

Tony’s expression drops, and he squeezes her hand. “I’m sorry.”

She straightens up, biting her lip. “I’m fine. See?” She smiles brightly, but her eyes are dull.

Tony sits silently, brushing his thumb across her knuckles.

Sam takes a deep breath. “I wanted to play with the boys. I knew what I was signing up for.” Her eyes mist over. “It’s fine. No big deal.”

“Sam,” he whispers, taking her face in his hand.

“I said I’m fine. Can we drop it.” She pulls away from him. “I’m strong. I’m tough. I can handle it.”

He gives her a gentle look. “I know that.”

She gives him a curt nod, swallowing hard. Despite her best efforts to stay calm, her throat begins closing and her chest tightens. She gulps again, willing the ache away. It only spreads.

Sensing her change in demeanor, Tony reaches a hand out and rubs her leg softly. As she fights back tears, Tony moves in closer. “It’s okay.” He leans back against her headboard and puts a hand on her back.

She leans against his chest. The moment he wraps his around her, she breaks down into tears. He hugs her tighter and lets her sob into his shirt. He sits silently with her, pulling her back in every few minutes.

It breaks his heart to see her like this, but he’s relieved to know she still trusts him. So, he holds her. Until the crying quiets and the shaking subsides. She sits up a little more, then draws herself in closer to him. He kisses her hair, immediately regretting it, until he hears her soft hum in return.

She shoots up, cocking her head toward the door, and shoves Tony off the bed. As he’s recovering, there’s a knock at the door, and he goes still.

“Sam, are you okay?”

“Yeah, dad. I'm fine.” She sniffles.

Steve opens the door slowly. “It sounded like you were crying.”

She crawls to the edge of the bed. “Just a nightmare.”

Steve sits down beside her. “Me and Mom again?”

She nods.

Steve takes a deep breath. “We're always very careful.”

She squeezes him into a quick hug and lets go. “I know. But I still worry.”

He laughs as he stands. “Hey, that's our job.”

She smiles, “Night, Dad.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

After the door clicks shut, Sam drops back onto her bed with a long sigh that turns into muffled laughter. “That was close.”

Tony pokes his head up over the mattress and looks around before climbing onto the bed. He cracks a smile. “I've kind of missed that.” He flops down next to Sam, staring at the ceiling. “So, nightm-”

Sam rolls over and presses her lips against his.

“Oh, okay.” He mutters against Sam’s lips, not wanting to break the kiss.

Sam pulls him over so they're laying on their sides. She lays a hand on his face, brushing her thumb across his lips before kissing him again. He winces at the pressure from Sam’s lips, but ignores the ache across his face.

Tony cups her face in one hand and runs the other through her hair. He hesitates before moving his hand to her hips. His hands shake as he waits for her to signal him to continue. Or, more likely, tell him to shove off.

Her lips twitch up into a smile. That’s all he needs. He pushes her onto her back and kisses down her neck. She turns her face away, exposing more of her neck and urging him on.

He kisses down to her shoulder and pulls back to meet her eyes. “Stop me whenever you want.”

Sam nods, biting her lip. She runs her hands down his back, and he leans back in, kissing across her collarbone and up the other side of her neck. She lets out a faint whimper when Tony nips at her skin.

“Okay, Stark, time to go home.” Steve’s voice booms through the house.

The color drains from Tony’s face. The tension eases when Sam stifles a laugh. He buries his face in Sam’s neck to muffle a laugh of his own.

“Now.” Steve’s voice echoes again.

“I’m going. I’m going!” Tony yells, standing up. When he gets to Sam’s doorway, he turns around. “Dinner on Friday?”

Sam shakes her head. “Next Friday.”

Tony nods, walking through the door. “Two weeks.”

Steve is standing with the front door open. He stops Tony at the door. “Understand, I can hear you.”

The bruises on Tony’s face mask his blushing. “We weren't-”

Steve silences him with a raised hand. “Just get out.”

* * *

Steve ushers Tony through the front door. “Sam’s still getting ready. Feel free to sit while you wait.” Steve walks into the kitchen and slides a chicken into the oven. “So, what are your plans?”

“There’s a fondue place in the city. Dad said it’s the best.”

There’s a loud clang in the kitchen. “Tony, would you mind bringing me the reading glasses from that side table?”

Tony opens the drawer in the side table and chuckles. “So, did you need the glasses, or did you just want to remind me how many guns are in the house?”

“You are as smart as your dad keeps saying.” Steve smirks, walking back into the living room. “Anything else?”

Tony nods to Peggy on the couch before sitting on the opposite end. “After dinner, we’re going to see a play.”

Steve nods, sitting in the armchair across from Tony. “When do you expect to have her home?”

Tony thinks for a moment. “Should be about eleven.”

“If she's not in my house at eleven fifteen, you and I are going to take a long walk that won't end well for one of us.”

Peggy smiles into her book. “Steve, you could crush his spinal cord with one hand. I don’t think veiled threats are necessary.”

“Peg, I’m not going to kill the boy. He’s just a teenager.” Steve smiles back at her. “I’d crush his trachea. You remember what that’s like, right?”

Peggy rubs her neck and looks at Tony. “Don’t ever volunteer to be hanged, dear. It's miserable. ”

Tony lets out a shaky laugh. “Mrs. Rogers, would you mind checking on Sam?”

When Peggy leaves, Steve leans forward and speaks in a low voice. “Alright, Stark, I know what you’re getting at. That’s my daughter. I will bury you alive and listen to you scream until pass out from lack of air. ”

Tony furrows his brow. “That seems a little extreme for fondue.”

“Just, fondon't.” Steve’s voice is cool and controlled.

“Don’t make her cook her own food? It’s actually a lot of fun.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers. I just don’t understand what you’re so upset about. We’re just going to have a nice dinner. Fancy cheese and chocolate. That’s all that’s on the menu.”

“That’s _all_ that’s on the menu,” Steve growls.

Tony’s eyebrows pinch tighter together as he shakes his head. “That’s exactly what I said.”

Steve stands with a huff. “Peggy, is she-”

Peggy walks out first. Sam follows in a black, asymmetrical cocktail dress with one-shoulder. Her hair is braided elegantly to one side, and her makeup gives her face a natural shimmer.

Tony rises to his feet with a grin. “You’re beautiful.”

Steve smiles and kisses Sam’s reddening cheek. “For once, I agree with Tony.”

Tony crosses the living room and offers his arm. “You ready?”

She nods, taking his elbow. Tony walks her to the Mini Cooper and opens the passenger door for her. He slides into the driver’s seat and looks at Sam. “What do you think? I figured you didn’t want to take one of the ragtops.”

She smirks. “It would have been a good excuse to come home with my hair a mess.”

He tightens his grip on the wheel, shutting his eyes with a deep breath. After he pulls out of the driveway, he glances at Sam. “I don’t think your dad understands fondue.”

She scrunches her nose and pulls her eyebrows together. “I don’t know. It’s a whole thing with him.”

“Yeah. It was very,” he pauses in thought, “cryptic.”

Sam laughs. “Mom must be rubbing off on him.”

“So, have you done fondue before?”

She shakes her head. “It’s a whole thing, remember?”

“You’re going to love it.”

Dinner took too long, but Sam was so excited about the chocolate that Tony couldn’t rush her. They had to run into the theater, which was quite an accomplishment with Sam’s heels, and barely made it to their seats when the lights turned down. Sam leaned comfortably into Tony’s side with his arm around her.

During intermission, Sam sits up straight, pulling Tony’s arm from her shoulders and lacing her fingers through his. He smiles at her when he sees her stretching. When the show starts back, she leans back into him laying a hand on his leg. He shifts when she starts tracing shapes across his thigh.

She watches him from the corner of her eye with a smirk. His lips twitch every time her hand runs up his leg. When she ventures up just a little higher, he chokes back a gasp. He grabs her hand and leads her out of the auditorium, still coughing.

When they get into the lobby, he pushes her against the wall, boxing her in with his arms. “Alright, you’ve got my attention.”

She smiles, looking away.

“What do you want?” he whispers, trying not to draw attention.

His low voice makes Sam's skin tingle. “To leave.” She doesn't mean to whisper, but her voice won't seem to work.

He smirks as she rubs her hands across his chest. “We can do that.”

He offers his arm and walks her through the parking garage. He opens the door and helps her in. By the time he gets settled, she's already got her shoes off. He laughs at her dramatic sigh of relief and leans over to kiss her. He means to give her a soft, sweet kiss before starting the car; he isn't expecting her to press her lips so hard into his that he can't breathe. She tangles her hands in his hair at the same time.

His hand on her thigh draws a sigh from her mouth. He swipes his tongue across her bottom lip and feels her smile. She kneels in the seat so she can lean further into him and her hands move to his waist. Her fingers dig into his shirt as she drags him closer.

He shifts in his seat and presses into her, deepening the kiss. His hands cup her face, pulling her mouth to his. Lips, teeth, and tongues collide as the kiss grows more energetic.

When Tony pulls away to take a breath, Sam teases, “You're pretty good at that. Have you been meeting girls behind the gym again?”

Tony rolls his eyes, smiling. “Just one. But she's gotten very bold recently. Had to step up my game.”

“Oh.” Sam quirks up an eyebrow. “Maybe you should show me.”

He chuckles, leaning back in. He pulls her toward him with a hand in the middle of her back. He can feel the heat of her skin under his other hand as he traces his thumb across her cheek. He kisses the corner of her mouth, along her jaw, and down her neck. Her gentle moan brings him back to her lips. His hand slides down her back, and she nips at his bottom lip.

He pulls back again, taking deep breaths. He meets her gaze. “Sam, I need to know what you’re wanting here.” Before she can answer, he adds, “Whatever you say is fine. I just- I need to know I’m not pushing you into something.”

She sits back in the seat and takes his hand. “You’re not.” She reaches up to his face and smiles. “I want to be with you.”

“Okay.” He lets out a shaky breath and starts the car.

“Tony-”

“Sam,” he laughs, “we can do whatever you want, but we are not doing it in a parking garage.”

Sam smiles back at him and laughs in agreement.

Tony walks in from the garage at nearly midnight. Sam had walked through her own front door at eleven thirteen after a not-so-brief goodnight kiss under the porch light. Of course, Steve had made a comment about cutting it close, but it didn’t matter. They made it just in time.

He’s surprised to see the dining room light still on, and even more surprised to see Jarvis sitting at the table.

“Isn’t it late to be polishing silver?”

“Yes, actually, it is.” Jarvis looks up. “Would you mind helping me? Ana expected me hours ago.”

Tony nods, taking a seat. He picks up a spoon to inspect. This is their finest set of silver, passed down from his grandmother at Howard and Maria’s wedding. He takes a towel from the pile on the table and picks up the polish.

“Be mindful of what you’re doing, Master Stark. These are very delicate and impossible to replace once tarnished.” Jarvis lays a knife carefully back into the box and picks up another. “Sure, your father would buy a whole new set without thinking twice. But, for someone like myself who has put so much time into keeping them pristine, it would be absolutely devastating.”

They continue working in heavy silence until every piece of the set has been delicately returned to the box. Jarvis closes the case and sets it back on its shelf in the display cabinet. When he turns back around, Tony is standing to leave.

“Anthony,” he waits for Tony to face him, “she has entrusted you with a great deal. Do be careful.”

Tony nods before heading to his room upstairs, those words echoing through his head.

Before breakfast in the morning, Howard invites Tony onto the back patio for coffee. “Son, did your sneaking in late have anything to do with a certain young lady sneaking out?”

Tony avoids eye contact. “We weren’t sneaking.”

“But you were out late.” Howard smirks. “Your mother wanted me to talk to you about rules and how to treat a lady and things like that, but I’m sure Jarvis covered all that with you.” He takes a drink of coffee. “So, if Maria asks, tell her we talked, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Tony stands, pushing his chair out.

“Grab a cup of coffee, would you? I want to talk with you man to man for a minute.”

Tony walks inside. He receives a sympathetic look from Jarvis as he begrudgingly fixes himself coffee. Tony also prepares a bowl of fruit before returning to the patio. He sits in his chair with a huff, looking expectantly at Howard.

“We’re not looking to expand the Stark family just yet, Tony. Do you understand?” He chuckles, picking up his coffee mug.

Tony rolls his eyes, popping a grape into his mouth.

“But on a serious note,” Howard continues, “when I was your age, I had quite a few young ladies following me around too. You can’t let it get to your head, son. Your mother never would have married me if I acted like I deserved her.”

Tony picks at his fruit, nodding. It’s fairly insightful for Howard Stark. “Would she have married you without the money?” he laughs.

“No amount of money ever bought one second of time. Remember that.” He gestures toward Tony with his mug before taking a sip.

Tony nods, drinking his own coffee. “You know, that’s actually pretty good, Dad.”

“I have my moments,” Howard laughs, “Most of them come from Steve, but that one’s all mine.”

Tony laughs and continues eating his breakfast. They both sit quietly, enjoying the sounds of morning. Tony’s nearly done with his fruit when Howard looks up from the paper.

“Do you love her?”

“What?” Tony coughs up a piece of cantaloupe.

“Starks aren’t really known for long term relationships.” Howard raises an eyebrow. “Or any relationships really.”

“I don’t know, Dad.” Tony shakes his head with a smile.

“I think you do,” Howard smiles, “All I’m trying to tell you, Tony, is treat her right. If you love her, take care of her.”

“I know, Dad.”

“It’s not all about you.” Howard winks.

Tony picks up his dishes as he stands. “This conversation is over.” It was so close to a moment. He should have known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! You made it through!  
Thanks for sticking it out; I hope it was worth it 
> 
> Coming soon: Bucky-centric chapter; in need of ideas. Thanks :)


	10. Feel Like A Hundred Bucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky-centic chapter, yay!  
Just a little slice of Bucky's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title's bad; I'm open to suggestions.  
I'm wanting to do more of Bucky's perspective in the future. This is kind of a test chapter to see how it goes over.

Bucky walks down the stairs at the Stark’s house. He can hear Steve and Peggy before he even hits the landing.

“I don’t see the problem.” Peggy grunts between thuds. What she’s hitting, he can’t tell.

“Peggy, that was not a ‘good date' kind of smile.” The ease in his voice indicates that Peggy must be using the punching bag, not him.

There's a quiet chuckle, followed by Peggy's mischievous tone. “I'd say it was a ‘really good date’ smile.”

“She's seventeen.” Steve growls. The sound of Velcro tearing, and louder thuds echo up the stairs. They must have swapped places.

“And?” Judging by the increased pace of punches, that’s not what Steve wanted to hear. “I was about her age. How old were you?”

“That’s not funny.”

Bucky reaches the basement floor, chuckling at Steve’s response, and makes a left to meet Howard in the lab.

“Weren't you in an all girls finishing school?”

Steve's question stops Bucky in his tracks.

“What's your point?”

Peggy's answer has him turning on his heel and walking into the gym. “Do you keep in contact with any of your friends from school, Peg?”

Peggy rests on the bench with her back to the door. She let's out a laugh, turning to face Bucky. “They all stayed in England.”

“If you meant what I think you did, that's a trip I'm willing to make.” He grins.

Steve snorts, “No kidding.”

Peggy looks at Steve with a glint in her eye. “Oh, is that how I get back across the pond?”

“Steve, if you don’t take this woman back to England, I will.” The corners of his eyes wrinkle with his snort.

Steve gives him a warning glare.

She looks at Bucky. “He won't let me go back to England since I took Sam to visit my mother.”

Steve glares across the room. “My fourteen-year-old daughter left in bell bottoms and came back in leather.”

Peggy rolls her eyes as she finishes rolling her hand wraps up. “It's not my fault The Rolling Stones released their first album during our trip.”

“Well, who bought it for her?” Steve crosses the room and wraps his arms around Peggy's waist, nuzzling into her neck. “But to answer your question, I'd be willing to consider the options.”

“Steve,” Peggy's eyes light up as she spins around, “I haven't been back to London since the war. Sam and I didn’t have time.” She stands on her toes to press a kiss into his lips.

“Yeah?” He chuckles, kissing her. “We’ll talk.”

Bucky groans, “I'm just going to go then.” He turns as they pull apart. “Howard said he wanted to show me something.”

He leaves before they can apologize and try to convince him to stay. He walks across the hall and opens the door to the lab. Peggy's playful yelp tells him he made the right decision.

When he enters the lab, he sees Howard hunched over a worktable. Something robotic is laid out in front of him. Sparks erupt occasionally as Howard works on it. As he approaches, Bucky realizes the object isn’t just robotic, it’s bionic.

“Stark, did you-”

Howard jumps, pinching his finger between two metal plates. He shakes his hand out as he turns around. “I tried,” he chuckles. “Before we can test it, I need to look at your shoulder. Get an idea of the connections, range of movement, attachments.”

“How long have you been working on this?” Bucky breathes out, scanning over the bionic prosthetic.

“Almost since you got back.” Howard shrugs. “Peg found some design specs in the Hydra files and wanted me to make sure there weren’t any bugs or remote access capabilities.”

“Why didn’t you just remove the whole goddamn thing?”

“We couldn’t.” Howard shakes his head. “We weren’t even sure you’d survive after everything they did to you. We couldn’t add the stress of us tampering with it…this thing is so complex. It’s taken me nearly two decades to get this far.”

Bucky just stares with wide eyes. After a moment, he licks his lips.

“I’ll quit right now if that’s what you want.” Howard hovers behind him. “I just thought you’d want to get rid of that Hydra piece of-”

“Yeah.” Bucky nods with half a smile. “How long until it’s ready?”

Howard moves around to Bucky’s left side to look him over. He lifts Bucky’s arm, rotates it, inspects the joints. “Maybe a week.”

Bucky lets out a breath. “What do I need to do?”

Howard waves to a chair. “Sit.”

Bucky takes a seat and holds out his left arm.

Howard begins an in-depth inspection. “How much do you know about this thing?”

“Not much.” He shakes his head. “It’ll rust if I don’t dry it well.”

Howard laughs, “That’s a start.”

Bucky relaxes as much as he can, allowing Howard to bend, stretch, and rotate his arm as needed. He even removes his shirt, albeit begrudgingly, so Howard can look at the chest piece. Bucky holds his breath as Howard examines the scar tissue where metal meets flesh. He winces, holding back a groan, when Howard tries to pry the plates apart to get a look inside.

“Damn.” Howard sits back. “It doesn’t come apart.”

Bucky’s voice tightens. “What does that mean?”

“If you want to replace the whole thing, I’ll have to build a chest and shoulder plate and more than a few sensors.” Howard turns back to the table, writing something down. “I’ll have to find a surgeon. And it’s going to hurt.”

Bucky nods slowly, chewing on his cheek. “How soon?”

Howard sputters for a moment, surprised by the speed of Bucky’s decision. “After I convince a surgeon to cut you open, remove integral pieces of your incredibly unique skeletal and nervous structure, replace them with something completely experimental, then allow me to fiddle around with the wiring until the damn thing works?”

Bucky doesn’t react

“After that, a week.” Howard sighs. “But it could be months before I can find a doctor willing to do it.”

Bucky nods.

“Understand, you’ll have to be awake for at least the wiring part of it.”

“Do you have to screw with my head again?” His voice is hoarse and his eyes dead.

Howard’s face and voice soften. “I sincerely hope not, Sergeant.”

“Then I’ll be fine.”

“There is another option.” Howard gives him a serious look. “What can you feel?”

“A lot. It’s pretty sophisticated. Hard to describe though.” He shakes his head. “It’s mostly varying degrees of pressure, but damage feels almost like an electric shock.”

Howard takes a deep breath. “I might be able to separate the arm from the chest piece at the shoulder joint.”

“That would probably be easiest." Bucky nods. “Technology and biology probably meet in the chest plate. Less risk if we don’t mess with that.”

“I agree. That’s probably where most of your movement control sensors are since that’s where your nerve endings are.”

Bucky examines the new arm, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “You could handle it on your own if you take it apart at the shoulder? No doctors?”

“I could wire the new arm into the existing sensors and weld the two pieces together, yes. But you’d still have Hydra hardware under your skin.”

“You could be ready in a couple weeks.”

“I…uh…” Howard hesitates, “Yeah, yeah I could.”

“Let’s do it.” Bucky’s voice is flat.

“Look, Barnes,” Howard brings his eyes to meet Bucky’s, “you need to understand, this _will _hurt.”

Bucky smiles, but his eyes go dark. “What else is new?”

* * *

Bucky throws Sam to the living room floor with a grunt. Gasping to refill her lungs, she plants a foot in his chest to kick him off. He pulls back, grabbing her ankle.

“See, this is exactly what you don’t want to happen.” With a quick twist of his arms, he flips her onto her stomach and pins her arms behind her back. “You gave me too much room.”

He releases her arms, and she scrambles out from under him. “I had to-”

“You’re fighting to get away. You need to be fighting to gain control.” He pulls Sam to her feet. “Get me on the ground. Just like you would with your mom.”

“You’re built a little different,” Sam laughs. “But I’d try to sneak up on her.”

Sam walks around behind Bucky. She drives her knee into the back of Bucky’s leg and jams her thumb into a pressure point on his shoulder. He crumples toward the ground with a groan. Halfway down, he twists and pulls one of Sam’s legs out from under her.

She hits the floor seconds after he does. They grapple on the ground, each trying to gain dominance. After longer than he’s proud of, Bucky finally has Sam pinned, though she has her legs locked around his waist.

“You’re getting better.” He observes as Sam claws at his hair, grabbing the nape of his neck and pulling him into her. “Oh, you want to play rough?”

He easily pushes away with one hand and breaks his hips free. She struggles in vain to regain control. He effortlessly blocks her every move and pins her with a knee on her chest and both hands over her head.

“Now, do you want to keep doing it your way or you going to let me teach you?” He raises an eyebrow at her, tilting his head to the side.

Her chest heaves, his knee preventing her from catching her breath. “Fine,” she gasps, struggling to free her hands.

He removes his knee and releases her wrists, but he doesn’t let her up. “Put me back in a guard, just like before.”

She wraps her legs around his waist and cautiously lays one hand behind his neck and the other on his shoulder. She waits for him to reposition his arms on either side of her head.

“You had the right idea.” He wraps one hand around her throat and presses the other lightly into her stomach. “Give me too much space, and I can really do some damage.”

He nods at her. She pulls on his neck, bringing his head and shoulders into her chest.

“Now, you’ve given me too much freedom in my hips.” He breaks his hips free in one swift movement. He pulls himself to a seated position on top of her hips. “Your mom’s not a great grappler; she prefers swinging heavy objects. So, this is where she wants to be, in control.”

“Uncle Bucky, this isn't-”

“Shut up.” He climbs off, and she locks him back in a guard. “You've got to manage the hips. That's where all her power is.”

“You would know.” Sam sneers up at him.

He smirks, “You don't want to open that door, kid.” She gags dramatically, and he continues instructing. “You want to get your legs as high as you can, almost around her back.”

Sam adjusts her grip. “Here?”

Bucky hooks an arm behind her knee and slides her leg forward.

The back-door slides open, and Steve and Tony walk in. They stand in the doorway taking in the sight.

“Well did you at least buy her dinner first?” Tony chuckles before grabbing a serving tray and heading back outside.

Bucky shakes his head. “That's messed up.”

“Burgers are almost done.” Steve turns to walk back outside, calling over his shoulder, “If you break something, Barnes, you’re buying a new one.”

Bucky looks back at Sam. “Now pull me in closer.”

Once again, Sam pulls down on Bucky's neck. As he attempts to pull back, she tightens her hold with her legs, pushing him tighter against her chest. Next, he throws his hips, trying to break her ankle lock. With the higher grip, his struggle has no effect on her.

“See?” He taps on her shoulder, and she releases him. “Now, obviously she’s going to fight harder than that, but you get the idea.”

“Yeah.” Sam nods, standing up. “Let’s eat.”

He laughs, “Actually, I only came over to work with you.”

“Aw,” Sam teases, “you want to help me.”

“I’m just tired of watching you get your ass kicked by your own mother.”

“Whatever.” Sam waves him off. “Why don’t you stay anyway? I’m sure Dad made plenty of food.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I need to clean up for a date.”

“James, look!” Bucky’s date points at a stray dog outside the car. “She looks so cold.”

Bucky glances out the window, squinting to see through the pouring rain. It’s only a puppy, curled up in the corner of an alley, not much bigger than a basketball. Her fur is soaked through, making her look more like a wet cotton ball than an animal.

“Sandy, it’s a dog. It’s built for harsh weather.” Bucky accelerates through the green light.

“She’s only a baby,” Sandy whines, “She just looks so pitiful.”

Bucky groans.

“James, we can’t leave her.”

“Alright, doll.” He pulls over. “Wait here.”

He jumps out of the car and runs to the alley. “Goddamn dog.” He approaches slowly, afraid of being bitten. “Come here, puppy.”

It growls, baring its teeth.

“Come on, you little fucker.” He crouches low and holds out a hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The puppy reaches its nose out timidly.

“That’s it. Come on.” He takes a half-step toward the dog. “You’re lucky my girl’s in the car.”

The dog snarls as Bucky straightens up and moves forward. “I don’t have time for this.” He rubs the rainwater off his face, reaching his left hand out.

The dog bites his thumb with a metallic clang. Bucky winces before grabbing the puppy by the scruff.

“You little shit.” He tucks the dog under his coat and makes his way back to the car. “The things I’ll do for a woman.” He drops the dog in the backseat and slides back into the driver’s seat. “Let’s get you both home, huh?”

“Oh, James,” she kisses his cheek, “you’re so sweet!”

He smiles, turning to kiss her lips. “Nah, sweetheart. That’s all you.”

She curls around his arm and snuggles into him for the ride back to her apartment. She sits up and kisses his cheek before saying good night.

“I’ll walk you to your door, doll.” Bucky shifts the car into park.

“I’ll be fine. My apartment is very safe.” She opens her door. “You shouldn’t leave the little angel alone in this storm.”

“Let me at least carry the umbrella for you.”

She shakes her head. “Do you have any idea what my neighbors would say if they saw me bring a man home after dark?”

“You’re right, doll. I’ll see you next week.” She shuts her door, and Bucky lets out a long sigh. “I guess it’s just you and me, fluffball.”

The fluffball whimpers all the way to Bucky’s house; luckily, it’s a short drive. After he gets out, Bucky opens the door and lifts the dog out of the back seat. He notices a large, dark spot on the seat.

“Did you piss in my car?” He glares at the dog. “You’re going straight to the pound in the morning.” He drops the dog on the living room floor. “If you shit in my house, I’ll drop kick you over the fence.”

Bucky leaves her in the house while he cleans the backseat. When he gets back inside, the dog sits on Bucky’s boot, looking up at him. She lets out a short, high-pitched howl that ends with a sneeze.

“You cold?” he chuckles, getting a ratty towel from under the bathroom sink. He sits on the floor and pats the space between his legs. “Come here, fluffball. Don’t want you stinking up my carpet.” He drapes the towel over the dog’s body, and she begins to shake and growl furiously. “Easy, girl.” His voice is low, soothing.

When he removes the towel, she jumps up and licks Bucky’s nose. “Alright, alright, enough.” He pushes her off before standing. “You sleepy?” He walks down the hall to the main bedroom. She follows close, bumping into his ankle when he stops. “Hey, fluffball, watch where you’re going.”

He changes into pajamas and climbs into bed. When he turns the lamp off, she starts whining. And keeps whining.

“Shut up.” She doesn’t. “Quiet.” Bucky rolls over, snapping his fingers at the dog. She quiets and starts yipping. “Oh my god.” Bucky shoves his head under a pillow.

Lightning flashes outside, and thunder crashes seconds after. The dog darts onto the bed with a yelp.

Bucky rolls onto his back, looking down at the new weight on his feet. “You don’t like storms either?” He leans down and scratches her ears. “Just one night.” He lays back and curls his arms around a pillow.

Bucky wakes up to knocks on the door. He can hear the TV in the living room. The morning news anchor’s voice is muted by the walls, but the subject of the day sounds like casualty numbers from the Battle of Finow. The rapping on the door picks up.

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute.” He stumbles through the living room, rubbing the burning from his eyes. He turns the handle and swings the door open. “What do you wa-”

Two soldiers with the letters “MP” on their left biceps are standing on his doorstep.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the Captain speaks, “your skills are needed in theater.”

“No.” Bucky’s icy gaze shifts uneasily from the Captain to the Staff Sergeant.

“With Captain Rogers MIA, we need you back.” The Sergeant speaks now.

Bucky’s voice is firm. “I said no. I completed the terms of my draft. Now, leave.”

“This isn’t a request, soldier.” The Captain holds out a paper. Orders, signed by the President, with “James Buchanan Barnes” typed across the top. “Your country needs you.”

“No. I won’t go. I served my time.” Bucky slams the door shut, heart pounding, and turns around. He storms back toward his room, only to find two more armed soldiers blocking the hall. “How did you get in here?”

“Your bags are packed, Sergeant. It’s time to go.”

Bucky looks at the floor on his left. His muddy, singed, bullet-ridden duffle bag sits fully packed at his feet. His breath catches. “No.”

He turns and jogs across the living room and into the guest bedroom. More soldiers, this time holding their weapons ready. Bucky can’t hear anything over the blood rushing through his ears, but he can read “Sergeant Barnes” on their lips. His lungs burn as he turns to run. “You can’t-”

A shot rings out over the pounding in his head. Searing hot pain tears through his shoulder, and he hits the ground. He rolls onto his back, vision going dark. The last thing he sees is the soldiers surrounding him.

He’s woken by an explosion and the taste of blood. He rolls over quickly, splashing mud on his face. It’s night, but the sky is lit by fire.

“Hey, boys, look who made it.”

“Peg.” Bucky gasps over his shoulder. “They got to you too?”

“No, James.” Her eyebrows pinch together. “Steve is gone. Someone has to win the war.”

He looks around at the rest of the Commandos firing blindly through the smoke. Another explosion and screams for a medic interrupt his thoughts. Instinctively, he turns toward the sound.

Peggy takes the pistol from Bucky’s hands. “I should probably take this before you’re mistaken for a combatant.” She tears a second pistol from the thigh holster of a body lying next to them in the dirt. Loading both pistols, she levels her aim into the smoke and takes off, leading the Commandos across the battlefield.

Bucky drags himself through the mud to the source of the screams. He keeps his voice level through his heavy breathing. “You’re going to be alright.” He takes a mental inventory of the soldier’s injuries and begins working. He packs gauze into a large gouge on the man’s thigh. Blood soaks through almost immediately. “Just a scratch.” Bucky packs fresh gauze into the wound and moves on to the deep lacerations across the man’s torso. “You’ll be home to your family soon. What’s your name, soldier?”

The man only grunts in response.

Bucky shifts to look at his face. “Stay with me, pal.” He pats lightly on the soldier’s cheek, prompting him to open his eyes. “What’s your name?” No response. “You married?” He gives a weak nod. “Kids?” A half nod. “I’m going to get you home to them, but I need you to keep your eyes open.”

Bucky watches his eyes glaze over and the muscles in his face slacken. “No, no, no. Stay with me!” He starts chest compressions, but heavy gunfire and more screams for a medic pull him away. “Fuck.”

He jumps to his feet and sprints through the mud. “Stay with me.” His throat burns with smoke as he yells over the violence. “Don’t quit on-” An explosion to his right sends him flying backward. He braces for an impact that never comes.

He’s free-falling. As he falls below the smoke, he can see the mountain walls growing taller and taller. He flings his arms to the sides, grasping for any hold. Nothing comes. He can’t control his rotation in the air, twisting and turning as he falls. His back slams into a slab of rock, sending pain shooting through his right shoulder and ribs. His body twists violently, catching his left arm in a crevice as he continues falling.

It does little to slow his descent. His wrist breaks with a snap, and his arm is free. Although he lands on something soft, he hits heavily, driving the air from his lungs. As he gasps for breath, he struggles to stand on the unsteady ground. He looks down at his feet, trying to maintain his footing.

There’s an ashen arm under his boot. He looks around at the mound of bodies. All faceless. The only discernible feature is a single gunshot wound between where the eyes should be. The wound is common to every body in the pile. As he searches for an escape route, he sees a glint of light from a ledge on the mountain, then nothing.

From the ledge, he can see himself in the crosshairs. Breathe in, breathe out. He squeezes the trigger and watches himself crumple into a heap among the other bodies.

Bucky jerks awake, panting and drenched in sweat. Thunder rolls through the house, and the room flickers white. He jerks his hand backward when he feels something warm and wet. He only looks down when he hears a faint whimper. “Did- Did I scare you?”

She continues to whimper and nuzzles into his side. He slowly lays back down, listening to the rain pelt the windows. She crawls onto his chest and nuzzles under his hand. She doesn’t stop whining until he begins stroking her fur. “I’m sorry, fluffball.” He takes deep breaths. “I guess I should have warned you about the nightmares.” Her breathing is even, though quiet, as she licks his fingers. “I promise that doesn’t happen often anymore.”

He flinches with every flash of lightning. He jumps with ever rumble of thunder. He looks down at the dog on his chest, realizing he had been scratching her ears with both hands. “I- I know I- I was on the right side, fluffball. We were the good guys. You understand? We had to win.” His voice begins to tremble. “I had to. I had to compromise. It was war. There was no other way.” His words come out hollow and detached. “There was no other way.”

* * *

Tony raises his eyebrows at Bucky’s dog as they walk through the front door. He shakes his head and goes back to his coffee without a word.

“If I leave the fluffball alone, she’ll tear up the house.” Bucky shrugs. “Besides, she’s learning 'heel' pretty fast.”

“You should probably give her a name.”

“I’m not keeping her.”

Tony snorts. “You’ve had the damn thing for three weeks.”

“I don’t have to deal with you.” Bucky snaps. “Your dad here?”

Tony tips his head backwards. “By the pool with Steve. What do you need?”

“I was going to head downstairs and really put this thing through the wringer.” Bucky stretches his new, bionic arm out. “Thought he might want to observe.”

Tony shakes his head. “This is the first time in weeks he’s stopped talking about work. I’ll go.” He stands, taking his coffee mug. “But you’ll have to share with Sam. Jarvis is showing her some judo.”

“He’s really worried about her fighting Peggy, isn’t he?”

Tony laughs, following Bucky to the stairs. “You would be too if she put you on your ass every time you sparred.”

Bucky agrees with a chuckle, nearly tripping as the dog runs under his feet. She scampers down the stairs and runs into the gym.

Sam’s squeal echoes up the stairwell. “Hey, puppy!” The dog yips, and Sam cracks up laughing.

Bucky walks into the gym and sees Sam standing up with the dog. When she sees Bucky, the puppy squirms out of Sam’s arms, landing on her nose. She somersaults and runs over to Bucky.

“Traitor.” He bends down to scratch her ears before continuing in to sit on one of the benches. As he begins wrapping his flesh hand, Sam asks Jarvis for a break.

“So, you finally going to put the spiffy new thing to the test?” Sam motions toward his arm as Jarvis leaves.

“That was the plan.” He smiles, glancing at her. “It seems to function just fine in the day to day.”

Sam looks at Tony. “And I guess you’re here to make sure he doesn’t break it?”

Tony laughs, kissing her cheek. “Something like that.”

They watch as Bucky takes several shots at the punching bag. He shakes his arm out between sets. “Feels alright. Just a little stiff.”

Tony shrugs. “Well it’s new.”

“Alright, enough messing around.” Sam walks over to the mats in the center of the room. “Let’s really push this thing.”

Bucky and Tony exchange glances, then nod.

“I guess if you want to get your ass kicked.” Bucky meets Sam on the mats.

Tony picks up the dog to keep her from chasing them.

Sam charges his legs. Bucky shoves her to the ground, pinning her soon after. She wriggles her way out quickly. She throws a punch at his face. He blocks and pulls a leg out from under her. She rolls away from him, jumping back to her feet.

They continue sparring for nearly twenty minutes. Sam’s been practicing; she’s gotten much better. She might even have him beat this time.

He’s locked in her guard, pulled in tight. Just like he taught her. She eases her grip for a split second to adjust her hold, but that’s all he needs. It gives him enough leverage to roll over head. She lets him go, jumping to her feet.

She’s a second behind him, and he’s ready when she gets up. He wraps his left arm around her throat, pulling her snug against his chest. As she struggles to get out, he slowly tightens his hold.

After a few seconds, he knows she’s losing oxygen. She taps his bicep twice. He relaxes his grip, but the cybernetic arm doesn’t respond.

Sam struggles to reach back, tapping his right shoulder. Nothing happens.

“Let her go. She can’t breathe.” Tony drops the dog and runs over.

“I’m trying.” Bucky grits his teeth. “The damn thing is jammed or something.”

Tony pries at Bucky’s arm before sprinting out of the room. Less than a minute later, heavy steps nearly fall down the stairs. Steve is the first one in the room.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Steve works a hand into the crook of Bucky’s elbow, widening the space between his arm and Sam’s neck. “Tony, get over here.”

The motors in Bucky’s arm fight against Steve’s efforts to straighten the elbow. Tony provides little assistance.

“Howard must have wired it wrong.” Bucky grumbles.

“Yes, it must have been me.” Howard jogs in with his toolset. “You couldn’t have dislodged something in your little tussle.”

“Shut up and fix it.” Sweat beads in Steve’s hairline.

Howard works at Bucky’s shoulder joint. Steve and Tony struggle unsuccessfully to keep Bucky’s arm from squeezing shut. Sam’s eyes flutter closed.

“Dad?” Tony can barely get the word out between breaths.

Tony glances at Howard to check his progress. He doesn’t have a single panel off yet. Tony drops Bucky’s arm and grabs a screwdriver from the floor near Howard’s feet. He jabs the tool between two metal plates on Bucky’s bicep.

Bucky yells in pain, but his arm releases. Sam crumples into Steve's arms, and he lowers her gently.

Bucky grits his teeth and ignores Howard’s tinkering, eyes set on Sam. She still hasn’t moved. She leans limp against Steve’s chest. He’s never seen her look so helpless, even as a child. The dog sniffs at her, whimpering.

Sam shoots up with a gasp. She slams her elbow into Steve’s jaw and jumps to her feet. She spins around, fear running wild behind her eyes. She lashes out at anything near.

Tony grabs her wrists. “It’s alright, Sam. You’re okay now.”

Her eyes settle on Tony’s face and she begins processing her surroundings. “What happened?”

“We’re not sure yet.” Tony shakes his head. “Bucky’s new arm wouldn’t disengage.”

“Steve,” Bucky looks away, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand, “I-”

Steve stands up with a snarl. “Just don’t. Do you know how stupid that was?” He wraps his arms around Sam and kisses her hair. "I was so scared."

He steps back with a deep breath and looks around the room. “No one tells Peggy.”


	11. Fast and Furious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Tony take Steve's motorcycle for a joyride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up right after the last one ends, but then there's a decent time jump.  
I've started using the lines to break up sections. From now on, the full line break will denote a significant time jump (days or weeks), while a space between paragraphs is just a change in perspective or a short time jump (hours).
> 
> I added the Graphic violence warning because I went into a little more detail with the injuries in this chapter. It's not too bad.

Sam follows Steve through the front door. She keeps her head down, painfully aware of the deep red bruising already developing across her throat. They move through the living room quietly, hoping Peggy stays in the kitchen. Steve waves Sam into the hallway.

“What are two trying to sneak by me?” Peggy calls. The sound of the oven closing warns them of her approach. “Steve, you didn't bring home Bucky's dog, did you?”

“No, honey,” he looks at Sam, raising his eyebrows, “of course not.”

Sam zips her jacket as far as it will go and pulls her hair forward to cover her neck. Bucky opens the door as Peggy rounds the corner.

“Where’s your little shadow?”

“Potty break.” Bucky laughs as she runs through the door. “She’s a real fast learner.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, you only had to beat her twice, and she was housebroken.”

“I don’t beat her.” Bucky sounds wounded.

Peggy rolls her eyes before turning her attention to Sam sneaking away. “So, what is it you're trying to hide from me?”

“If I wanted to talk about it, I wouldn't be hiding it.”

Peggy squares her shoulders. “Tell me.”

Steve nods curtly at Sam. “Show her.”

“I really don't want to.” She pulls her jacket collar up.

“Then you shouldn't have done it.” He gives her a pointed glare. “Show her.”

Sam glances at Bucky before opening her coat to expose her throat. His face tenses. He'd needed to clear his head after it happened and left for a walk as soon as Howard had repaired the damage. This is the first he's seen her since.

Peggy’s mouth drops open with a quiet gasp.

“She was supposed to be training with Edwin.” Steve looks to Peggy. “Imagine my surprise when he met me and Howard by the pool. So, I did a little investigating.”

“We didn't do anything wrong!” Sam jumps forward in protest.

“You were in his bed!”

“We were just making out.”

“And if I hadn't interrupted?” Steve stares her down.

She breaks eye contact. “Tony's a-”

“Don't say good guy. He's a seventeen-year-old boy.” Steve turns to Bucky. “Were you a ‘good guy’ at seventeen?”

He smirks, “Definitely not.”

“Tony's not-”

“Not what, Sam?” He throws his arms in the air. “I mean, Jesus, look what he did to you. He must have been pretty damn worked up.”

Sam shrinks back against the wall. “He didn't hurt me.”

“That's not the point.” Here gives her the eyebrows of disappointment. “Don't make any plans after school. You're helping with dinner for three weeks.”

“Alright.” Peggy narrows her eyes, looking at each of them before returning to the kitchen.

Bucky lets out a breath, walking to the middle of the room. “You think she bought it?”

“No way,” Sam snorts, “This doesn't look even remotely like…” She trails off when she sees Steve's pained expression.

Steve shakes his head. “But at least she let it go.”

“I feel bad putting it all on Tony like that.” Bucky begins searching around the room.

Sam shrugs. “He agreed to it.”

Steve drops his face into his hands. “If she finds out, we're all dead.”

“No kidding.” Bucky stands up from looking under the couch. “Where'd the fluffball go?”

As they all look around, she runs in from the kitchen with a small piece of fish in her mouth.

Sam and Steve laugh. “Should have known.”

“Peggy, she can't have fried food!” Bucky bends down to scratch her ears. “Sorry, fluffball, you're sleeping in the garage tonight.”

Sam tosses a dirty look at Steve as she turns to leave. “I didn't even do anything wrong.”

“I'm sure you’ve done something lately you don’t want me to know about. We’ll just call it even.”

Sam smirks to herself. She opens her mouth to make a snide remark but thinks better of it. Instead, she helps Peggy set the table without protest.

* * *

Steve scans the contents of the refrigerator, unable to sleep. Eventually, he shuts the door and moves to the cabinet with Peggy’s tea selection. He settles on a chamomile blend and brews hot water through the coffeemaker, so the whistle of the tea kettle won’t wake Peggy. If she found out he was having tea, he’d never live it down.

While he waits for the water, he fills the small infuser with tea leaves and drops it in his empty mug. He shakes his head to ease the crawling sensation under his skin before taking the cream and sugar out. The war would never really be gone. Any of them.

He closes his eyes and leans into the counter, trying to clear the faint footsteps from his ears. A series of images dance across his mind. Lying by a campfire with the Commandos, Peggy curled into his chest, a crunch of leaves before gunfire erupts. Heavy footsteps chasing him through the street before Rumlow and Rollins throw him to the ground. His own feet, digging into the dirt, pushing back at Thanos, not making any progress, being swatted aside like a fly.

He forces his eyes open with a deep breath. Maybe he shouldn’t go back to sleep tonight. With another breath, he adds a spoonful of sugar and a splash of cream to the mug. He returns both items to the refrigerator before pouring the hot water in and sitting at the table. He stares into the mug, watching the water turn a deep brown as the tea leaves steep. He lifts the mug to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent helps ground him in the present, clearing the last bits of memories from his tired mind. He takes a small sip and sets the cup on the table silently.

His eyes dart to the front door. The lock definitely just clicked, not a flashback. His muscles tense prepared for a fight. He’s glad Peggy stayed in bed. He cocks his head to the side as the door opens. Absent muttering.

He sits perfectly still, watching Tony enter the living room, sliding a small remote into his pocket. Steve’s eyes narrow at Tony when the security system doesn’t alarm. Tony looks up and freezes.

“Tony.” Steve nods with a raised eyebrow.

Tony clears his throat, straightening up. “Mr. Rogers.” His voice shakes.

“Did you forget something after dinner?”

Tony stammers for an answer.

Steve waves a hand. “I’m glad you’re here, though. See, I’m certain I turned the alarm on before bed, but it seems to be malfunctioning.”

“I can-” Tony swallows hard. “I can, uh- I’ll take a look tomorrow.”

“Well, since you’re here.” Steve stands and walks over to the control panel. “I won’t be able to sleep knowing Sam and Peggy aren’t as safe as possible.”

Tony nods, slowly making his way to Steve.

“Unless, of course,” Steve catches Tony’s eyes, “you can explain why it didn’t work just now.”

“My dad asked me to test your system.” Tony smirks to himself, opening the control panel. “He’s working on some upgrades and wanted to know where it falls short.”

Steve leans against the wall, watching Tony work.

“I’ll just reset everything for you, and…” A small spark flies from the panel before Tony closes it up. He opens the front door, and the alarm sounds. “Good as new.”

Steve moves Tony out of the way to enter the code. The alarm goes silent, but Peggy’s already in the living room.

Sam jumps in front of her, relaxing when she sees Tony. “Mom, we’ve talked about this. I’m a super-soldier. You should not be taking bullets for me.”

“You are my daughter.” She ushers Sam back down the hall. “I will always protect you.”

Steve nods to the door, eyeing Tony. “I appreciate the help.”

Tony gives a small wave before opening the front door.

“Oh, Tony,” Steve holds the door for Tony, “next time the Stark men want to run after-hours_ tests_, you should let me know. I’d hate to shoot you by mistake.” He smirks at Tony, his tone turning dark.

Tony gives a stiff nod before leaving.

Steve locks the door, sets the alarm, and heads back to bed, leaving his tea to clean up in morning.

Peggy smiles at him when he walks in. “Any trouble?”

“The kid’s clever, I’ll give him that.” Steve plops onto the bed beside her. “It worries me.”

“We’ve caught him three times.” She shuffles across the bed to sit behind Steve. “I like our chances.”

“Yeah, well, I really would hate to have to shoot him.” He smirks, rolling his neck. “He’s growing on me.”

Peggy digs her thumbs into the back of Steve’s shoulders, massaging the muscles deeply. “I had a feeling you’d come around.”

“Sam seems to- Oh, yeah, right there- to really like him.”

Peggy giggles, pressing her elbow into the spot he liked. “She does, and he’s a nice boy.”

“Oh, god, where did you learn to do that?” He rolls his shoulders under her fingers.

“Twenty years of practice, darling.” She takes a breath. “And, despite his flaws and his history, I think he really cares for Sam.”

He nods in agreement, turning to face her. He takes her wrists and kisses her knuckles gently. “If you want to get any sleep tonight, you’d better stop now.”

She kisses his cheek, pulling her hands away. She gives him a devilish grin, leaning forward on her knees, and slides her hands under his shirt. “I can sleep when I’m dead.”

A low growl rumbles from his chest and he pulls her close. “You,” he kisses her, biting at her lip, “are nothing but trouble.”

“And you love it.” She runs her lips down his neck, simultaneously lifting his shirt up.

He pulls away to toss his shirt to the side, chuckling. “You’re damn right.”

He presses against her, kissing across her jaw. His fingers brush up her smooth thighs, sneaking under her nightgown. She swats his hand away and shakes her head, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m in charge tonight, Captain.” She pushes him down and climbs on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Jesus, Peg.” Steve wraps his hands around her waist.

Peggy gives him a warning glare. His hands were already shaking with restraint, now his fingertips dig into her sides, certainly leaving bruises.

“Is that all?” She takes his wrists, sliding his hands over her hips and around her backside. “I know you can do better.”

“I am still awake!” Sam yells from her room. “And you are not as quiet as you think you are.”

Steve groans, throwing his head back into a pillow. “Then be awake somewhere else.”

They hear heavy footsteps stomping down the hall and a series of quiet beeps before the door creaks open and slams shut. Steve lets out a quiet laugh, never taking his eyes off Peggy’s face. Waiting for her to give him a cue.

Sam slams the front door behind her, stepping into the cool, night air. “Tony?”

He creeps around the corner of the house, meeting her in the driveway. “That worked out pretty well.”

“Well, Dad didn’t shoot you,” she smiles, “Always a plus.”

“Okay, yeah.” Tony shrugs. “But he actually told you to leave. You didn’t have to sneak anywhere.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “You know, you’re going to have to come in through my window from now on.”

“Whatever it takes to spend time with you.” He drapes his arms around her waist, leaning back to look at her face. “What do you want to do tonight?”

She glances over Tony’s shoulder. “Let’s go for a ride.”

His grin broadens. “Really?”

“What?”

“You’ve never asked before.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You never really drive it.” She shrugs

“I thought you didn’t like my bike. I mean, it’s not near as cool as your dad’s.”

Sam laughs and rolls her eyes.

“I know you hate it, but your dad _is_ Captain America.” Tony grabs her by the shoulders. “And his bike is badass.”

She looks up at Tony, a glint in her eye. “You want to drive it?”

Tony’s hands drop to his sides. “Wha- how? He’d never let me.”

“He doesn’t have to know.” Sam pulls her keys from her jacket pocket and lifts the garage door. “Come on. We’ll push it up the street. He rarely drives it anymore. He’ll never notice.”

Tony jogs up next to her and carefully takes the handlebars in one hand and pushes it back with the other. Sam suppresses giggles, stealing glances at Tony the entire time. She’s never seen him smile so wide before. His hands shake with excitement, and his eyes twinkle in the star light.

Once they’re far enough from the house for Tony to be comfortable starting the engine, he looks at Sam. “You ready?”

She nods. He swings a leg over and reaches a hand out to help her on. She takes it with a grin, situating herself behind him. She kisses the back of his neck, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Ready.”

Tony smiles at her over his shoulder before pushing off. She pulls tight against his back as he leans into a curve. She lets out a stream of giggles as the fresh air hits her face, relaxing into the ride.

He’s clearly a skilled driver. He takes every curve with ease, slowing down just enough to maintain control. He shifts seamlessly between gears, throwing her a quick glance. Sam watches as much as she can, absorbing every piece of information. Steve never really taught her to drive the motorcycle; although, he promised he would.

Sam smiles against Tony’s shoulder before leaning back and releasing her hands. Tony slows, worried she’s lost her balance. When he hears her squeal of laughter, he opens the throttle, letting her enjoy the wind in her hair.

She throws her arms out wide and tosses her head back. She lets out a howl into the night, the cool air blowing across her cheeks. She leans back into Tony, wrapping her arms around his chest. She nuzzles into his neck, nibbling along his jacket collar.

Tony shivers under her lips, straightening his back. He smirks to himself, and the bike slows. He eases onto the shoulder, glancing back at her.

“Did you have something on your mind?”

She nuzzles into his neck. “Maybe.”

“Yeah?” He twists to face her, stretching his spine more than is comfortable. “What exactly were you thinking?”

“Oh, just a little of this.” She kisses his lips softly. “And a little of that.” She bites his bottom lip before pulling him into another kiss.

“Ok, babe.” He laughs pulling away. He presses a hand into her side. “But this really hurts.”

She slides off the bike and watches him lower the kickstand. He swings a leg over and leans against the bike.

“Now,” he grabs her by the waist, pulling her against him, “I believe you were lost in thought.”

She hums, leaning her forehead against his. “Deep thinking.”

He groans. “Would you just kiss me?”

“You first.”

He grins, “Gladly.” He buries a hand in her hair, pressing their lips together. He nips at her bottom lip and scrapes his teeth up her jaw.

“Tony,” her sigh tickles his ear.

“Yeah, babe?”

She leans forward, pressing their bodies together. “I want to drive.”

He groans, laying his head on her shoulder. “You what?”

“Please?” She begs, her eyes sparkling.

“Give me a minute, and we’ll talk about it.”

Sam giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck. She massages his head, kissing behind his ear.

“Oh, no.” He pushes her back. “If you want to drive, you got to stop doing that.”

She holds her hands up, palms out, and takes a step back.

He takes a deep breath. “Do you know how to drive a bike?”

She shrugs. “You can teach me.”

“On this?” He shakes his head. “You’re out of your mind.”

“I’ve driven with my dad a few times.” She steps toward Tony, brushing her hands over his shoulders.

“Sam, I-” He looks away. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Tony, please. Dad promised he’d teach me, but…” She goes quiet.

“It’s a big bike, Sam.”

She backs up, looking at her feet. “You’re right. We should just- just, never mind.” She leans back into him, kissing his jaw.

He huffs and pulls her back. “Alright. But not here.”

Sam grins, bouncing onto her toes. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

He pulls her into a quick hug, before swinging his leg over the bike. “The road by Danny’s. There aren’t many curves, and it should be empty this time of night.”

Sam nods, climbing on behind him. “Let’s go.”

Tony drives out to a deserted strip of highway. He pulls to the shoulder, trading places with Sam. “What do you know?”

“Clutch. Brake. Throttle. Ignition.” She lifts her left toes. “Shifter.”

“Good,” Tony smiles. “Do you know how to shift gears and when?”

“Yeah,” Sam nods, “but it’s been over a year.”

“Okay. Shift down to first and just take it easy. Practice shifting until you get back in the swing of it.”

She eases it back on the road. “Like riding a bike, right?”

“Oh, dear, god.”

It takes nearly fifteen minutes for Sam to begin shifting smoothly and Tony to quit laughing. She slows to a stop, turning to Tony for feedback.

“I think you gave me whiplash.”

“Shut up,” Sam sneers. “I’m doing my best.”

“And I think it’s adorable. Really.” He kisses her cheek. “You think you’re ready to keep going?”

Sam nods, biting her lip with a grin.

“Okay, we’ll go a few miles past Danny’s house and turn around. _Go easy_ on the curves.” He pats her back before holding on to her hips.

She raises the kickstand, twists her wrist down, and engages the clutch. As she drives, her nervous energy dissipates, and she settles comfortably into the motions. They’re speeding down the road in no time. She doesn’t drive as fast as Tony did, feeling his fingers dig into her hips with every acceleration.

Coming around a big curve just before Danny’s house, Sam accelerates out of the turn more than she has been. Again, Tony tenses with the increased speed. Sam smirks over her shoulder before leaning forward and opening the throttle wide. She can barely hear Tony’s protest over the rush of air in her ears.

“Sam,” Tony yells louder, “Slow. Down.”

She chuckles, slowing to a more manageable speed. As Danny’s house comes into view, Sam notices Bucky’s car coming up the driveway. She lets her attention drift. The front tire hits a patch of gravel, and she can feel the motorcycle lose traction.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” She tightens her grip on the handlebars fighting against the jerking movements.

The whole bike wobbles side to side, and the handlebars shake more violently. Tony wraps his left arm around Sam’s waist, grabbing her right hip, just as the handlebars turn violently to the side. He throws his weight to the side, tearing them both off the bike, twisting onto his back in the split-second before they hit the ground.

Sam lands on top of Tony. His left shoulder hits first with a crunch, the impact opening his grip around Sam. She rolls out of his arms, sliding across the road. She lays on the ground, mind racing. When she opens her eyes, she’s nearly blinded by the motorcycle headlights, peaking over the embankment. She groans, her skin burning as she stumbles to her feet.

“Tony!” She gasps, scanning the road. Her head is pounding, and starbursts of color cloud her vision. She can barely make out Tony’s crumpled form sprawled on the ground near the mailbox. A large shadow bends over next to him.

“Sam, you alright?”

“Yeah, I think.” She rubs her head and closes her eyes. “Uncle Bucky, is Tony-”

“He’ll live.” Bucky lifts Tony into his arms, cradling Tony against his chest. “Can you drag the bike over here. Leave it in Becca’s yard. I’m going to bring him inside.”

She swallows, her dry tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth. She turns slowly, locating the headlights again. Her movements are awkward, the muscles on her right side move slower than the left. She slides down the embankment with a groan. She hauls the bike upright and heaves it up the small hill. It takes her three tries to get it onto the road, and she stops for a breath. It rolls well, despite the frame damage and obvious front wheel misalignment. She manages to hobble across the road and lean it against the mailbox.

The second she releases the bike, she sprints across the yard and through the front door. Tony’s leather jacket lays shredded on the floor. Her throat tightens as she makes her way into the kitchen. Tony’s laying on a blood-spattered sheet on the dining room table. His clothes are torn open on the left side, and most of the skin is completely gone. His hair is matting as the fresh blood dries. Deep gashes on his face ooze blood.

Two bowls of water sit on the table, one near Bucky at his legs and one near Becca at his head. Becca dabs at the scrapes and gashes on his face, scrubbing occasionally. Bucky delicately peels fabric out of the shredded skin on Tony’s leg, plucking debris out of the wounds. He scrubs as he goes, the water in the bowl turning muddy red. Tony groans and squirms weakly.

“Sam?” Tony’s eyes flutter open, and he turns his head.

Sam hurries to the top of the table. She bends down, putting her face near his. “I’m here. I’m alright.”

“The bike?”

“Not so much.” She takes his right hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Becca,” Bucky doesn’t look up, “we need to get him to the hospital before the adrenaline wears off.”

Becca nods. “What do you need?”

Sam watches Bucky’s hands move, working quickly to clean the wounds.

“An old jacket or scarf, something to sling his arm. That shoulder’s definitely broken.” Bucky slides the dirty water out of the way, rolling Tony’s jeans up. “Something to brace this ankle. He hit your mailbox pretty hard. Can I leave Cara here?”

“Of course.” Becca hurries out of the room.

Sam glances at the puppy, who has grown considerably. “You finally named her?”

“It means friend.” He shrugs, not looking away from his hands. “Can you see any bone.”

Her eyes widen. “I- what?”

“Bone, Sam. It’s very important. Can you see bone?” He examines Tony’s leg closely, when he notices Sam isn’t moving. “Kid. I need your help. Bone infections are no joke.”

She takes a breath before joining Bucky on the other side of the table. Her stomach turns as she looks over the damage. “I- I don’t think-” She swallows hard. “I don’t see any.” She reaches a hand out to his bloody shoulder.

“Don’t touch him,” Bucky barks. “Your hands are filthy. And- Jeez, kid.” He takes her right hand, turning it over. He looks up her arm. “You’re torn to shit, too.”

“I’m fine.” She pulls her hand away.

Becca enters with her hands full. Bucky lets Sam go and takes a scarf from Becca.

“Beck, take Sam to the shower.” Bucky moves to Tony’s shoulder. “Just clean her up quickly. Spray out the debris, get her new clothes. Something loose.”

He lifts Tony to tie the scarf around his neck. Sam follows Becca to the bathroom. Sam strips down to her bra and underwear with difficulty. Her muscles are stiffening by the minute. She pulls the curtain open with a groan.

Without a word, Becca steps forward and helps Sam rinse her injuries. She double checks for pieces of asphalt and gravel before leaving. She returns with a flowing sundress and sandals.

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to get your boots back on.” She helps Sam slide the dress over her head and step into the sandals. “How does it feel?”

“Like my skin is on fire.” Sam shrugs. “But thank you.”

When they return to the kitchen, Tony and Bucky are gone. Becca ushers Sam out the door, where they see Bucky closing the back door of his car. Sam hurries to the passenger side and slides in while Bucky returns his phone to his pocket.

Peggy sits up in bed, trying to understand the urgency in Steve’s voice. She strains to hear the voice on the phone.

“We’ll meet you there.”

Peggy jumps out of bed changing into the first thing she can find.

“Buck’s on his way to the hospital with Sam and Tony.” Steve pulls on a t-shirt.

“What happened?”

Steve suppresses a chuckle. Peggy’s wearing gym shorts and a sweater. “Something about an accident”

“How bad?”

“I don’t know. He was breaking up.” Steve opens the bedroom door, and they rush down the hallway.

“Why not the SHIELD compound?”

“Peggy, I don’t know,” Steve snaps.

Peggy follows Steve out of the house and into the garage with no more questions.

He pauses at the garage entrance. “Peg, where’s my bike?”

She stops with one foot in the car, looking across the roof. “Oh, bloody hell.”

When Howard and Maria arrive, Bucky leaves Tony’s room to stay with Sam. Luckily it was after they cleaned her wounds. She did not take kindly to being scrubbed clean with antiseptic. Dressing the injuries goes much more smoothly, though takes quite some time. They bandage her right arm and entire upper torso; the nurse makes Bucky step out of the room. Her shoulder is the most damaged, he’s somewhat surprised it hadn’t been dislocated from taking most of her weight in the skid across the road. The right side of her abdomen is dressed with large adhesive bandages. Her right leg is wrapped down the knee; apparently she had managed to keep her lower leg off the ground. Though scraped and bruised, her calf and ankle are left to heal in the open. The nurse places a few butterfly bandages on Sam’s face before sending them back to the waiting room.

“How do you feel?” He crooks an eyebrow up, looking at Sam from the chair beside her.

“Better than Tony does,” Sam mumbles, picking at the bandages on her arm.

“Do you want me to go pick up your pain meds?”

She shakes her head, tugging the bandages.

Bucky pulls her hand away. “Leave it alone.”

“It itches.”

“I know.” He glares at her when she starts rubbing the wrapping around her leg. “But it’s better than an infection.”

She looks Bucky over, eyebrows pulling together. “You’re pretty good at this stuff.”

He snorts leaning back in his seat. “I’ve had a lot of training.”

Sam watches, her lips pursed together.

“What? You think Dugan stitched your mom up all those times?”

“No,” Sam laughs, “but you _knew_. I’ve seen Mom work, and Dad. It was more than that.”

He locks eyes with Sam. “You don’t know?”

She shakes her head. “What?”

He smirks. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“What?” Sam grows impatient.

“I have a biology degree.” He watches her eyes grow wide. “Pre-med.”

Her mouth drops open.

“Then, I got plenty of experience during the war.”

“You were a medic.” It’s a question as much as a statement.

“Only until I joined the Howling Commandos.” He shakes his head. “Non-combatants aren’t exactly useful to an elite task force.”

She’s quiet for a moment. She had never considered what her parents did before the war. Most of the stories they told were just teasing each other. Even during the war, the only stories she knew were about the Commandos. She knew the Barnes family had always been wealthy, so it makes sense that Bucky would have gone to college. He probably learned a lot taking care of Steve growing up, so the medical field makes sense.

She lowers her brow, squinting slightly. “Why would you enlist after all that school?”

“Who told you I enlisted?” He looks genuinely curious.

She opens her mouth and closes it back. No one. She stares at her hands, running her thumb over the bandage across her palm.

Bucky glances at her. “You alright, kid?”

She nods before looking back up to meet his eyes. “Why didn’t you ever go to med school?”

“Doctors save lives. I’ve taken too many.” When he sees her concerned look, he gives her a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Sam returns her attention to her hands. “Well, you’ve saved mine more than once.”

He laughs, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Kid, you’ve never been anywhere close to death. I promise.”

She yelps quietly when he presses on her shoulder, pulling her into himself. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Oh, yeah.” He lets out a deep laugh. “It’s going to get much worse before it gets better. Even at your rate of healing.”

Sam whimpers, falling deeper into his hold.

“Well, next time, don’t be stupid.”

Howard walks through the double doors from the hallway and waves them over. “We’re just about ready to take him home. You can come back for a few minutes before we go.” Howard looks over Bucky’s shoulder and waves again.

Sam’s stomach does a somersault when she sees Steve and Peggy run in.

“Oh, thank god.” Peggy throws her arms around Sam, eliciting a groan from Sam.

Steve glares at Bucky. “Next time you wake me up at two in the morning, maybe open with ‘Sam’s fine.’”

“I wouldn’t say fine.” Sam shrugs Peggy off.

As Howard turns back to the doors, Bucky steps backward. “I need to get some rest. Tell Tony I hope he feels better soon.”

Howard nods, then leads the rest of them to Tony’s room. He’s leaning against the pillows buttoning the shirt Maria brought for him. He has a boot on his right ankle under his sweatpants. His bandages are a near mirror image to Sam’s, though he has stitches on his face. Becca’s scarf has been replaced with a real sling on his left arm. Maria kisses the back of his right hand; her eyes rimmed red. He smiles weakly as everyone enters the room.

“You look good.” Tony looks Sam over. “New dress?”

“It’s Becca’s. My clothes didn’t fare too well.” Sam smiles. “I’ve got bad news about your jacket too.” She sits down in the chair on his left side.

“Judging by how my back feels, I’d guess it looks something like this arm.” He groans.

“What happened?” Steve growls from the doorway.

Sam’s head snaps up to look at Steve. She opens her mouth, but Tony speaks first.

“I lost control. The front wheel started wobbling, and I had to lay her down.” He stares at the foot of the bed while he speaks. “I’m really sorry about your bike, Mr. Rogers.”

“His- You were-” Howard gapes at Tony. “Steve, we’ll buy you a new one.”

“I don’t care-” Steve glares at Howard. “It’s not about the bike. You two got lucky.”

“Dad, he-”

“Sam, shut up,” Tony whispers harshly.

“Do you have any idea what should have happened to you?” He locks eyes with Tony. “It was reckless and irresponsible. My bike is almost twice as big as yours. To take it and think you can drive it just the same! You shouldn’t be driving any motorcycle at all if you don’t know better than that.”

Peggy lays a hand on his arm. “Darling, it’s-”

He uncrosses his arms, throwing her hand off. “It’s not alright, Peggy. He not only put himself at risk, but everyone they passed on the road. Our daughter.” He glances at Sam, who has her chin tucked to her chest. “Tony, you could have killed her. And for what? Your pride? A chance to show off?” He pauses. “I was starting to like you. Maybe even approve of you and Sam. But, now it’s clear you’re only concerned with yourself.” He grabs Peggy’s arm and turns to the door. “Sam.”

“Dad.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“Now,” he barks out the order.

Sam looks at Tony, tears in her eyes, and stands to follow Steve out.

The Rogers walk silently back to the car. Sam keeps her head down for the whole ride.

“Sam, don’t think you’re off the hook just because you weren’t driving.” He glances in the rearview mirror. “You never should have gotten on that bike to begin with. But the moment you realized it was more than he could handle, you should have gotten off and called me.”

She’s quiet.

“Just to be clear, love, we would prefer to pick you up anywhere other than the hospital.” She reaches her hand back to rub Sam’s knee. “Always.”

Sam stares at her hands. She should tell them. Set the story straight. She should say something. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. The tears she had been fighting since the hospital begin to spill over. She quashes the sobs in her throat and wipes the tears from her cheeks as they fall.

* * *

Steve passes Howard a handful of papers.

Howard chuckles, “More ideas about the uniform?”

Steve lets out a dramatic, mocking laugh. “You asked for my help.”

“I meant testing.” Howard sits at his workbench. “Designing protective gear was your idea.”

“Selling it was yours.” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“What did you want to do? Give it away?”

“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

“For the moment, yes.” Howard spins around on his stool. “But if you advocate motorcycle safety as Cap, demand for this gear will skyrocket. Seeing you on a bike again will drive masses to get their licenses. And-”

“Stark Industries can’t sustain it,” Steve huffs. “Yeah, I know.”

Howard flips through the pages again. “These are decent though. I’ll see what I can do.”

Steve nods, backing out of the room.

“How’s Sam?” Howard stands to follow.

“Mostly better.” Steve doesn’t wait for Howard to catch up. “She was only out of school for a couple days. Headaches are gone. Road rash is just about gone. A little bruising on her face.” He crosses the hall and walks into the gym.

Howard nods to Bucky and smiles at Peggy. “I should’ve known Steve wasn’t here just to see me.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. “How’s Tony?”

“He’s had better days.” Howard chuckles heavily.

“Good.” Steve joins Bucky at the punching bag.

Bucky cuts his eyes at Steve with a small shake of his head.

“Look,” Steve grunts, “I’m really glad he didn’t die, but I can’t say I’m upset he got hurt.”

“You would think Captain America wouldn’t be so coldhearted,” Howard scoffs.

“You would think Howard Stark could afford to give his son driving lessons.”

Bucky glances at Steve through narrow eyes.

Howard continues “You would think-”

“He could have killed my daughter,” Steve roars with a final, heavy punch. His face is flushed and shoulders tense.

“Steve,” Bucky places a hand on Steve’s chest, pushing him away from the bag, “Tony wasn’t driving.”

Everyone turns to Bucky.

“That bike is pretty recognizable.” Bucky continues, “It caught my attention coming around the corner. Sam was definitely in front.”

Steve blinks slowly, hanging his head. “Of course.”

Peggy looks at Steve, her expression tense. “What?”

“Sam would have panicked.” Steve shakes his head. “Once she realized she couldn’t control it, she probably would have braked hard.” Steve runs hand down his face.

“The bike would’ve flipped over the front end, crushing them both.” Howard still stands in the doorway.

“Or launched them headfirst into the asphalt.” Bucky’s eyes are locked on Steve, who is looking at the ground.

“Either way, they’d both still be in the hospital.” Steve looks at Peggy, bracing for Howard’s retort. Steve has been relentless about Tony’s recklessness for the last two weeks, working it into every conversation he could.

Howard clears his throat. “I’ll just get started on these.” He waves the papers in his hand and leaves the room.

The room is silent. Steve steps back up to the punching bag. He rolls his shoulders twice before resuming his workout.

Peggy watches silently. He picks up the pace, hardly resting between sets. When Bucky walks over, she mutters absently, “That explains why she hasn’t asked to see Tony.”

Bucky smirks, “Steve wouldn’t let her after the wreck?”

Peggy nods. “We expected a fight. We thought it strange that she didn’t, but we certainly didn’t question it.”

“They’re alright, Peg.” He squeezes her shoulder. “He’ll calm down.”

“You didn’t hear him at the hospital. The way he treated Tony.” She shakes her head. “And he was protecting Sam the whole time.” She stands, waving for Bucky to leave. “Steve?”

“She could’ve killed them both.” He flows seamlessly through punches. “Easily.”

“Yes.” Peggy walks to the opposite side of the bag, so Steve can see her. “You were right to be hard on both of them.”

“He probably saved her life.” He pauses looking Peggy over. “And I-”

“He also put her life in danger to begin with.” Peggy pulls Steve to a bench and sits beside him. “She batted her eyelashes and he folded. Steve, he knew she shouldn’t have been driving that bloody thing.”

Steve nods. “What should we do about Sam? I want to yell. Until she breaks down, promising she’ll never do anything so stupid again. Until I’m sure she understands the depth of the situation.” He groans, “But I can’t, Peg. I just- I can’t.”

“No.” Peggy shakes her head softly. “I have an idea.”

Tony sits on the couch with his foot propped on the coffee table, his walking boot toppled over on the ground. He picks at the fruit in the bowl on his lap, listening to the TV drone on. He doesn’t hear Jarvis approach.

“How are you feeling?”

Tony jumps, knocking his fruit on the floor. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

Jarvis chuckles, crouching to clean up the mess. “Yes, well, that’s not too far off.”

“I feel like a child.” Tony lays his head back. “I can’t cut my own food or change my bandages. I can barely dress myself.”

“We’re all grateful you can finally bathe yourself.” Jarvis turns to leave. “Would you like some more?”

Tony shakes his head. “Maybe a sandwich?”

Jarvis turns away with a smile. “Soup and sandwich, it is, then.”

Tony closes his eyes, listening to Jarvis in the kitchen. The clattering is muffled by the walls, saving Tony from a head splitting migraine. His concussion is nearly healed. The first three days had been the worst, near constant head pounding, double vision. He had slept nearly fifty hours during those first three days, and silently thanked Steve for assuring him that future doctors encourage sleep in concussed patients. Over the next few days, the throbbing had eased, and now only bothered him when something was too loud or too bright.

“Do you think I could try going back to school next week?” Tony yells, rubbing his temples at the exertion.

“I don’t know, Anthony.” Jarvis walks in carrying a full tray. “Can you even read for more than five minutes at a time?”

“I’ve been working on it,” Tony groans “Come on, J. Just a half day. I’m dying here.”

Jarvis grins setting the tray next to Tony. “I’d hate for you to choke because you can’t cut up the school lasagna.”

Tony scowls. “You can pack my lunch if you’re so concerned.”

“What fun for me.”

“Sam will help me.”

“Tony-”

“Please,” Tony begs, “you know Mr. Rogers won’t let her come over here. Probably ever again.”

Jarvis sighs. “I’ll speak with your father this weekend.”

Tony grins, picking up the sandwich. “Thank you.”

Jarvis closes his eyes, pinching his eyebrows together. “I still don’t understand how you crashed. Steve’s motorcycle has excellent brakes and steering, Anthony. You know that.” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand why you would have laid it down.”

Tony looks away. “I didn’t.”

Jarvis sits on the opposite end of the couch. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Well, I mean, I did, but-” Tony takes a breath. “Sam was driving.”

“Oh.” A look of understanding crosses his face.

“She hit a patch of gravel and lost control. I pulled her off before she could run up a tree.” He looks at the sandwich still in his hands. “I couldn’t- there wasn’t- I couldn’t do anything else.”

“Why did you lie to Steve?”

“He was furious, J. And, and Sam was already so upset about it. She couldn’t handle that.” Tony shakes his head. “Besides, I let her drive. I’m the one responsible.”

“Why would you-”

“I shouldn’t have. I know. She was just so excited.” Tony laughs. “You should've seen her.”

“I see.” Jarvis nods, gently patting Tony’s shoulder before he stands.

“You won’t tell him, right?”

Jarvis pauses, turning around with a soft smile. “Of course not, Anthony.” He mimes zipping his lips and tossing the key.

Tony laughs to himself, trading his sandwich for the bowl of soup. He settles into the couch and turns his attention back to the TV. He glances at the comic books stacked on the table in front of him. Jarvis dug them up for Tony after the accident. They’re easier to read than novels.

Steve had drawn them for Sam when she was a kid. Of course, Sam had spread them out amongst him and the Barnes kids. As a kid, the stories were fantastic. As a preteen, they were absurd. Reading them now, he had a feeling they were real. Adventures from Steve’s past life. How else would he dream up a kid with spider-like abilities or a Jekyll-and-Hyde style rage monster.

The corner of his lips twitches. He sets the bowl back on the tray and reaches for a comic. He flips absently through the pages, smiling at the artistic detail. A living tree and talking raccoon, so maybe some of them were made up.

As someone approaches from behind, Tony tosses the comic back on the table. “Hey, Dad, I was hoping maybe I could help you out in the lab later. It’s getting-” His mind goes blank when Steve rounds the couch. “Oh, um, hello Mr. Rogers. I, um, must have missed you come in.”

Steve inclines his head. “Your dad said you’re feeling better.”

“I don’t think I could have felt any worse than before.” Tony chuckles.

Steve smiles, and they sit in silence. They hear Peggy talking with Jarvis in the kitchen. It sounds serious. Tony studies Steve, looking for a hint.

He doesn’t have to wait long for an answer. Peggy comes in to collect Steve, turning to Tony. “Sam will come by later to bring your schoolwork.”

He stares, mouth dropped open. “Thank you.”

They both nod before leaving. When he’s sure they’re gone, he hurries to finish eating. He straps his walking boot back on, groaning at the twinge of pain. 

“I’m going to rest upstairs,” he calls, hoping Jarvis can hear him. He picks up the stack of comics before heading to his room.

He thumbs through four booklets before his head starts humming again. He rubs his eyes, letting out a growl. He’s definitely not ready to go back to school. He grabs a pillow from behind him and shimmies down to lay on his back. He wedges the pillow between his chest and injured arm, closing his eyes.

He wakes to quiet knocking. He had rolled onto his right side while sleeping and struggles to sit up.

“Come on in.” He hisses at the ache in his left shoulder. “Oh. Is Jarvis out there?”

Sam stands in the doorway shaking her head. “He pointed me up here. Said you were sleeping.”

“Can you ask him for some ice?”

Sam nods, setting a stack of books on his nightstand before leaving.

Tony reaches for the top book with a grimace. Calculus, he can handle that. He reaches for a pencil and notebook. He breezes through two problems before Sam returns with an ice pack.

“Thanks.” He takes it, sliding into a reclined position. He lays the pack on the pillow and eases his shoulder down to rest on top of it. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He hears Sam shuffle toward the door. He sits up with a jerk. “Sam, wait.”

She stops in the door. “Yeah?”

“Stay a minute.” He groans, laying down. “I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet, and she doesn’t turn around.

“It’s okay. I know your parents didn’t want you around me.” He cocks his head to the side, waiting for a response or reaction. “You did try to come see me?”

Still no reaction.

“Sam?” Tony’s voice falters. “Please say something.”

Her shoulders drop as she turns around. When she opens her eyes, tears fall over her cheeks. She opens her mouth and shuts it again, shaking her head.

“Hey, it’s alright.” He pats the bed beside himself. “Come here.”

“I’m sorry.” She crawls onto the bed and curls under his arm. “I could have killed us both.”

“You did fine.” He pulls her into his chest. “You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have let you drive.”

She shakes her head. “You didn’t want to. You told me I couldn’t handle it.”

“Sam-”

“Look at yourself,” she cries, “I’ve healed completely, and you can’t even sleep comfortably.”

He kisses her head with a groan. “I’ve been worse.”

“When?” She lets out a wet laugh.

He goes silent.

“Why didn’t you let me tell the story?”

“Because I knew you’d tell the truth.” He eases his grip around her. “I didn’t save you just so your dad could tear you to pieces.”

“But you-”

“Sam, I’m fine. You’re fine. Stop kicking yourself.” He smiles, “Can we at least say we were both at fault?”

“Okay.” She sniffles out a laugh.

“I could use your help with some of this homework.” He gestures to the books, and she pulls them onto the bed. “I’m good in math and, probably science. I could definitely use some help with English.”

“What do you need help with? It’s just reading,” she teases.

“I still get headaches.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and turns away. “Of course. Do you want me to read to you?”

He hums in amusement. “Not today. My head still hurts from reading earlier. I think I need more sleep.”

“Maybe tomorrow then?” Sam closes the book. “I should get home.”

He grabs her wrist as she stands. “You’re exhausted too. I can see it.” He tugs at her gently. “Lay down with me.”

“Tony, I can’t. My parents are waiting in your gym.”

“Just for a minute. Please.” He looks up at her with big, round eyes.

She giggles, climbing back onto the bed. She opens the throw blanket at the foot of his bed and covers them both. She lays her head on his right shoulder and drapes her leg over his, careful to avoid his boot.

He wraps his arm around her, soaking up her body heat. He snuggles under the blanket and drifts off to sleep.

He squirms groggily under her weight, she must have been more tired than he guessed. He can make out the sound of footsteps and Jarvis calling for Sam through the fog in his brain. Sam stirs, and he pulls her in closer, kissing her hair.

Heavier footsteps make their way down the hall. When the door swings open, Tony locks eyes with Steve, driving out whatever sleepiness was left in his body. Tony lifts his hand, fingers splayed in a sign of submission.

Steve’s face softens, and he whispers, “She hasn’t slept all week. Drawing with her all night was even starting to wear me down."

Sam stretches with a groan, eyes still closed. Tony combs through her hair. “I got you, babe. Go back to sleep.”

She slides her arm across his chest, wrapping herself around him lazily. “I love you.”

Tony glances at Steve, cheeks turning red.

Steve nods once before leaving.

Tony chuckles when he notices Steve left the door open. Fully intentional, no doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
My husband quite proof reading for me. In need of beta-readers, hit me up LOL!


	12. The Road Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Tony start looking at their future plans.  
Sam is scarred for life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I don't have a better summary and title. Since my husband doesn't beta read for me any more, I don't have any help with titles.  
I'm going to upload a sketch of Sam and Tony to chapter 3 soon. I'm new to drawing, so it's not great, but I like it.
> 
> I've been working on some scenes that will come later. It's going to be rough

“What is there to talk about?” Sam whines, from the couch.

Tony rubs his temples. “What we’re going to do after graduation.”

“Have one hell of a summer.”

“You know what I mean.” Tony scowls.

Sam shakes her head. “It’s barely October. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tony sighs. “I know, but we should.”

Sam jumps to her feet. “I should really help with the dishes. Don’t you have physical therapy or something with Mr. Jarvis?”

Tony groans, rising to his feet. The sling pinning his left arm to his chest makes everything more difficult. “Fine, Sam. Have it your way.” Tony opens the front door. “Tell your parents thanks. Dinner was great.”

Sam walks into the kitchen, picking up a towel on the way, and takes a plate from Bucky.

“It’s good to see you two talking again.” Bucky glances at her, elbow deep in soapy water. “After the accident, I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Sam lets out a heavy sigh. “I almost wish we weren’t.”

He quirks an eyebrow up as he hands her another plate. “I kind of liked you two together.”

“It’s not that.” She lays the plate in a cabinet. “He only wants to talk about graduation. He wants me to go to Massachusetts with him next year.”

“Did he say that?”

Sam takes a wine glass from Bucky. “Well, no, but why else would he want to talk.”

“Crazy idea.” He shrugs. “Maybe he just wants to talk about it.”

“What is there to talk about? He’s going to school and I’m joining SHIELD. That’s been the plan our whole lives.”

Bucky nods, laying silverware on the drying mat. “How long was dating each other a part of that plan?”

Sam towels off the silverware before carrying it across the kitchen. She chews at her bottom lip while she puts them in their place.

“If it matters at all,” Bucky breaks through her contemplation, “I’m team college.”

Sam groans. “Not you too.”

“Kid,” he laughs, “college is a good thing. I’m not saying go get a medical degree. You could go to art school like your dad. Just, actually finish it.”

“Uncle Bucky, I want to-”

“Yeah, I know. I still don’t think you should.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “You were the one who got me started.”

“No, petty crime is a world away from espionage.” Amusement dances behind his eyes as he drains the sink. “You’re safer in art school.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’ve been talking to Dad.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “I don’t have to. Believe it or not, I don’t want you dead either.”

“Aw,” Sam smiles, nudging his shoulder. “I love you too.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, preparing a snarky retort. The screech of the backdoor interrupts him as Steve pokes his head through.

“Are you two going to join us by the fire pit?”

Sam shakes her head. “I'm going to get to bed early. I’m sparring with Mom in the morning.”

“Where’s Tony?” Steve looks at Sam.

“He had to go home for some kind of stretching for his shoulder.” She shrugs. “He said dinner was really good.”

Steve nods before turning his attention. “Buck?”

“Yeah,” Bucky smirks at Steve, “just give me another minute to talk some see sense into your kid.”

“If you can do that, you can have her.” Steve chuckles, shutting the door.

He looks back at Sam. “You should talk to Tony.”

“I don’t think I will.” Sam groans, “If that’s all, I have to go hide in my parents’ closet.”

Bucky pinches his eyebrows together, pulling a beer from the fridge. “You are honestly the strangest kid I know.”

“I got to beat Mom somehow,” Sam laughs. “Don’t keep them out too long.”

“Only if you promise to think about college.” He raises an eyebrow at her, waiting by the door.

She offers him a small smile and a nod before turning down the hall. She hears him slip out the back door and continues to her room. She takes a quick shower and changes into her sleeping shorts and an oversized t-shirt. One of Steve’s old ones, she’s had it since she was four and growing too fast to keep buying new pajamas.

She keeps her ear on the conversation outside and sits down at her desk to work on her midterm art project, an oil painting. Her least favorite medium yet. The only requirement was the canvas size, so at least she can knock out an anniversary gift for Steve and Peggy. She flips through their wedding album, chuckling to herself. Peggy hadn’t even wanted a photographer, but Steve insisted. She selects a few and lays them out side by side. The first kiss is cute, but she really doesn’t want to try and paint that pose. She carefully replaces the photo and looks at the second. A grin stretches across Steve’s face, white icing is smeared across Peggy’s. The third is a picture of Steve bending Peggy back into a dip; though bending isn’t exactly correct because her feet aren’t touching the ground. The last picture is taken from under Peggy’s veil. Both Steve and Peggy stand under the veil, Steve kissing Peggy’s forehead.

She eliminates the dip pose, replacing it in the album. As she compares the remaining two photos, she notices the lull in conversation outside. She listens intently for further discussion. When she hears nothing, she quickly cleans her desk, turns off her light, and locks her door behind her. She leaves the key on top of the door frame and runs into Steve and Peggy’s room. She stumbles through the dark bedroom and slides into the closet. She can hear the three others come back inside, laughing. They say goodbye and the front door shuts.

Sam waits silently in the closet, barely breathing. When Steve and Peggy enter their room, light filters through the closet door. Sam backs into the corner, afraid of being seen through the cracks. While they brush their teeth, she slides between outfits, using the clothes to conceal herself. She looks at the soft leather in her hand. A corset, and a very small skirt. She suppresses groans of disgust as she realizes she’s trapped herself in Peggy’s lingerie collection. She doesn’t even dare look at the lace brushing against her other arm. Although she does find herself captivated by an outfit with lots of buckles.

“How the fuck does this-” She cuts herself short when she hears their bathroom door open.

The bed creaks under Steve’s weight as they settle. Peggy’s airy giggle breaks the silence. The laughter is punctuated with breathy gasps.

“If you don’t stop wiggling like that,” Steve pants, his voice strained, “I’m going to hurt you.”

“Steve,” his name comes out as a long whine, “y’know it tickles.” She draws out the last word.

“How much did you drink?” Steve chuckles.

“Enough to make you _very_ happy.”

Sam cringes and shakes her head to refocus. It’s late. They’ll go to sleep.

“Margaret Elizabeth Rogers,” Steve’s voice rumbles from deep in his chest, “that is no way for the Director of a federal agency to act.” Steve grunts, “Peg! Hold still.”

“I’m trying!” she whines, “You’re just so tempting.”

“Alright, then.” A drawer slides open. “You asked for it.” Metallic clicks are obscured by Peggy’s choked laughter.

During her effort to discreetly free herself of Peggy’s outfits, Sam accidentally glances through the crack in the doors just in time to see Steve climbing on top of Peggy, her arms pinned over her head. He hovers above her. Her breath catches as he trails kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. Resting his weight on one arm, his other hand traces up her thigh, sliding under her thin nightgown. This was a terrible idea.

Sam holds her breath, forcing her scream to stay in her lungs. She slams her eyes shut, but not fast enough to miss Steve brush his fingers along Peggy’s inner thigh. Peggy arches her back, pressing herself against Steve’s chest.

“Steve,” Peggy gasps, “Oh, bloody-”

“God, stop it!” Sam bursts out of the closet. “It’s not worth this.”

Peggy squeals, pulling herself to seated position. Her hands rest behind her head, elbows out.

Steve rolls to the side, pulling a pillow across his lap. “Bloody Nora!”

Sam and Peggy gape at Steve, their brains adjusting to hearing the phrase in his American accent.

Steve drops his head. “Christ. I caught it!”

“Dad,” Sam snickers, “it’s not that-”

“Samantha!” Peggy’s elbows wiggle as she fiddles with her hands. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving. Preferably.” Sam grumbles and shifts her weight between feet, her face burning hot.

“I don't-” Steve shakes his head, staring deliberately at the corner of the room. The red in his cheeks spreads across his face and down his neck. “Sam, why would you- I mean, were you trying to-”

“No!” Sam’s eyes dart to Steve and immediately away, thank God he's still wearing pants. “Bloody fuck, no.” She takes a deep breath. “I have seen more than I _ever_ wanted to. I was just trying to catch Mom by surprise.”

“Mission accomplished.” Peggy glares, still tugging at her wrists. “You can’t just hide in our closet, Sam. We have boundaries. Steve, can you please help me!” She raises her hands, sliding a pair of handcuffs up the bedpost.

“Nope.” Steve shakes his head vigorously from the other side of the bed. “No, I cannot.”

Sam cringes. “Trust me, mother. This is worse than any punishment either of you can dream up.” She drops her gaze. “Can I please go?”

“Next time you want to sneak up on me, have a think.” Peggy huffs, leaning back against the headboard. “You really ruined the mood, love.”

“Oh, please, Mom. Nothing kills your mood.” Sam snickers, leaving the room.

The handcuffs jangle behind her. “Prat.”

“Love you too.” Sam calls over her shoulder.

She sits back at her desk, scanning over the photos. She glances at the canvas, holding up each photo at arm’s length.

“Want me to bring the mood back up?” Peggy giggles.

Sam opens her desk drawer, searching for what Steve keeps calling an iPod.

“You are so damn sexy.” Steve’s voice drifts through the walls.

Sam groans, snatching the iPod, and opens the next drawer, tossing pencils, paint brushes, erasers, and rulers to the side.

“Say something else British.”

“Like what?” Steve snickers and continues in his best English accent. “Fish and chips? Tea and crumpets? God save the Queen?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, just kiss me again.”

“I can do that.” Steve’s voice turns husky. “Where?”

“Two minutes! I’m begging you!” Sam removes the drawer and dumps it on her bed. “Can you manage that?”

Steve and Peggy both groan loudly.

“I just need to find my earphones!” She moves to her nightstand, tearing through the top drawer. “Just be quiet for two minutes!”

Steve bursts into laughter when Peggy lets out a long whimper.

“You two are impossible.” She grumbles to herself. Jerking her head up, she rushes to her backpack and pulls her earphones out of the pocket. “Oh, thank God.”

She shakes the wires out and plugs them into her music player. Turning on The Animals album, she takes another look at the two remaining photos. She settles on the veil picture, there’s more room for artistic freedom, and begins sketching it onto the canvas, humming along to her music.

Bucky leans forward resting his elbows on his knees. Sam struggles to break free of a chokehold, only to find herself pinned under Peggy’s full body weight. In seconds, Peggy has Sam’s arm locked between her legs. Peggy lifts her hips slightly to prove she could easily break Sam’s arm and releases her.

Sam jumps to her feet. “Again.”

“One more.” Peggy looks around the backyard from a crouch and her expression turns playful. “The Jarvises should be here any moment for a proper Teatime.”

Sam giggles, “I made crumpets.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. “It’s one in the afternoon, love. Did you learn nothing from our trip to Hampstead?”

Peggy stands face to face with Sam, waiting for her to make the first move. Sam wraps her arms around Peggy’s legs and throws her shoulder against Peggy’s waist. Peggy topples backward, hitting the ground with a gasp for air.

“I think she might have this one.” Bucky leans toward Steve. “She almost pinned me at Stark’s gym last month.”

Steve smiles, “She’s a teenage girl, Buck.”

“Yeah, well, she fights better than her father.”

“She fights like her mother.” Tony slides the backdoor shut behind him and stands near where the men are seated.

Steve’s grin spreads. “My money’s still on Peg.”

Bucky shakes his head with a chuckle.

“I don’t know.” Tony stares intently at the sparring match. “Jarvis has been teaching her proper weightlifting form. She’s getting really strong.”

“It’s not about strength,” Steve answers coolly. “Sam’s never had to fight for her life like her mom. Peg fights on instinct. Sam doesn’t have them yet.”

Bucky jumps in, tearing his eyes from the scuffle. “The kid has gotten a lot of experience recently. And with a lot of different fighting styles.”

The screech of the door drowns out Peggy’s grunt as she throws an elbow into Sam’s stomach and twists out of her grip. Sam splutters out a cough, grabbing Peggy’s wrist and pulling her back.

Steve glances at the Jarvises. “If I’d known we were having a party, I would’ve shaved.”

Ana rolls her eyes.

“Peggy invited us for Afternoon Tea.” Jarvis winces, watching Peggy land flat on her back after rolling across Sam’s shoulders.

“Steve put his money on Peg.” Bucky raises an eyebrow at the Jarvises.

“Smart,” Jarvis states calmly.

Sam has Peggy locked in a guard. Her legs wrap around Peggy’s back, forcing Peggy’s head and shoulders into Sam’s chest.

“That’s it, kid. Now, regain dominance.” Bucky holds his breath.

Ana looks at Steve. “I’d bet on Samantha. Edwin says she’s been getting quite good with judo.”

Peggy breaks an arm free and claws at Sam’s face. Sam turns her face away and hisses at the burn across her cheeks. Peggy grabs Sam’s hair and wrestles her other arm free. She rips Sam’s hands away from her neck, locking her own hands around Sam’s wrists. She leans back, but Sam pulls herself tight against Peggy’s chest, closing every inch of space for Peggy to maneuver.

With a deep breath, Peggy throws herself forward. Sam hits the dirt, taking an impact from both directions. The ground is rock hard, and Peggy is surprisingly heavy, all muscle. Sam gasps and releases her legs. Peggy headbutts Sam in the nose, sending colors shooting across both their fields of vision. She climbs on top of Sam, straddling her hips.

Bucky lets out a breath. “So close.”

Steve smirks, “I told you.”

Jarvis smiles, “Gentlemen.” He nods back to the match.

Sam bucks her hips off the ground, throwing Peggy over her head. She scrambles around and climbs on top of Peggy. Sam sits across Peggy’s hips and pins her wrists above her head with one hand. She rests her other forearm across Peggy’s throat with enough pressure to draw out a strained cough.

Peggy nods at Sam, gagging, and wiggles her wrists. Sam rolls off and lays panting next to Peggy. Peggy rolls over, propping herself up on an elbow, and rubs a hand across her throat. She coughs again, leaving speckles of blood on the flattened grass.

Steve tugs at Peggy’s shoulder. “You alright?”

She nods. “Looks like you’ve got a new trainee.”

Steve chuckles, “I was hoping you’d hold her off at least until she turned eighteen.”

Peggy glares at him. “You’re welcome to try, darling.” She spits out more blood before letting Steve help her to her feet.

He draws his eyebrows together with a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nods, running her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “Bit my cheek when she threw me.”

They turn when they hear Jarvis congratulate Sam. “It wasn’t quite the Tortoise of Fury, but it works for you.”

Ana giggles, rubbing a hand down Sam’s arm. “He’s so proud of that move.”

“So, your mother is done injuring you now, correct?” His voice is filled with concern.

Peggy nods. “She can train with Steve’s team from now on.”

Jarvis sighs, “Well, that’s not quite the outcome I had hoped for.”

Tony pushes past the Jarvises and kisses Sam’s cheek. “I knew you had it.”

Sam grins. “Thanks.”

“Was that your play all along?” Bucky calls from his seat.

“Let her get comfortable and toss her over my head?” Sam chuckles, “Maybe.”

“It’s a good move.” He shrugs.

“Well done, love.” Peggy smirks at Sam. “Who wants tea?”

Sam winks at Peggy. “Dad’s decided to embrace more British culture.”

“I bet you two think you’re funny.” He tosses his hands up. “But what the hell. Let’s have tea.”

“Edwin and I made scones.” Ana gestures toward the house.

“I started the batter for crumpets!” Sam bounces on her toes. “Grandma taught me.”

“Good. Learning from Mom would be-” Steve feels Peggy’s glare. “A wonderful bonding experience.”

“Crumpets aren’t exactly a Low Tea snack.” Peggy raises an eyebrow at Jarvis. “What do you think Edwin?”

He smirks at Sam. “Let her have some fun. We’ll teach her about proper tea some other time.”

As everyone makes their way inside, Peggy pulls Steve back. “I don’t remember you complaining the first time I cooked for you.”

“You mean when you finally let me stay the night?” He lets out a deep laugh. “Yeah, go figure.”

“So, I no longer give you anything worth lying to me for?”

“That’s not what I said,” he sighs before smirking at her. “But if you’re looking for an opportunity…”

“Just go. I can’t watch this all day.” Sam slides the door half shut as they approach. “Stay out of my treehouse.”

“I thought this was your parents' idea.” Jarvis tilts his head to the side as Sam walks in alone.

“They’ll be back in a minute. Mom said the car was pulling to the left yesterday. Dad wants to take a look while it’s on his mind.”

Bucky eyes Sam as she moves past him into the kitchen. “That car isn’t what’s on his mind.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “They’re worse than me and Tony.”

“You weren’t around during the war.” Bucky chuckles, “I was lucky enough to fall off a train before they got too bold.”

Sam scrunches her nose and scowls at him. “I don’t want to know that!”

“I didn’t want to know about you and Tony, but here we are.”

“You started it.”

“You continued it.”

“I don’t know what _it_ is, but I’m ending it.” Tony walks up. “Need any help, babe?”

“No, I’m good.” Bucky winks. “Thanks, honey.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Would you give us a minute. Sam and I need to talk.”

Sam looks at Bucky, eyebrows raised, and shakes her head.

Bucky groans, “Actually, Tony, my shoulder has been locking up.” He grabs his left shoulder, rotating it.

“That’s not good.” Tony pinches his eyebrows together with a frown. “Come over tomorrow and I’ll look at it.”

“Couldn’t you look now? It’s kind of a problem.”

Tony catches Sam throw a thumbs up from the corner of his eye. “I don’t have any equipment with me. There’s nothing I can do right now.”

“Oh, right.” He backs out of the kitchen. “Tomorrow it is, then.”

Tony glares at Sam. “Am I actually going to see him tomorrow?”

She looks away. “I doubt it.”

“Sam, we need to talk about this.”

“We really don’t.” Sam takes the towel off the bowl of batter.

“You finally won against your mom.” Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to start going on real missions soon. We need to talk.”

“I’m not going anywhere. All my missions will be in the country. And I still have to go to school.”

“Sam,” he huffs.

“Tony.” She cuts him off with a curt shake of her head.

“Fine.” He turns to leave, but turns back around. “There’s no point in us going out Friday night if you’re not going to talk to me.” He storms out of the room.

Tony sinks onto the couch. Jarvis is only moments behind him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jarvis laughs, “Well that’s ironic.”

Tony shakes his head with a smile. “If Sam won’t talk to me, I’ve got nothing to talk to you about.”

“She will, Anthony. Just give her some time.” He pats Tony’s shoulder. “If I had to make a guess, I’d say she’s afraid.”

“Of what?” Tony scoffs.

“Losing you. If you move away without her,” he takes a breath, “well, teenagers have split over less.”

“Putting off the conversation doesn’t make it go away. It just ruins the time we have now.”

“Have you told her that?”

Tony shakes his head. “Not in so many words.”

Jarvis drops his head. “What did you say?”

“I told her there was no point in going on any more dates until she’s willing to talk to me.”

“I suppose you made your point.” Jarvis shrugs. “Ana's helping her in the kitchen. Perhaps she can get through to her.”

“No.” Tony rubs a hand down his face. “She’s going to think I put Ana up to it.”

“It will cook faster that way.” Ana leads Sam out of the kitchen, and they find seats in the living room.

Sam smiles at Tony from the armchair across from him. “Can we still go out on Friday?”

Tony’s expression softens. “Of course.” He glances at Ana, who gently shakes her head.

He studies Sam’s demeanor. She’s calm, cool, levelheaded. Everything she’s always been. She sits tall, her shoulders squared and spine straight. She’s proving a point.

He narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“I enjoy spending time with you, Tony. I want to go out.”

“But you’re not going to talk to me?” His answer comes out as more of a statement than a question.

“Of course, I am. It wouldn’t be much of a date if we didn’t talk.”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Tony snarls.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to talk about it.” She sets her jaw, clenching her teeth. “Not today. Not Friday.”

“You are impossible.” He jumps to his feet and walks to the front door. He takes a breath, turning calmly to Sam. “Sure, we’ll go out Friday. I’ll take you to a movie or something. I suddenly have no desire to talk to you either.”

He slams the door shut behind him, shoving past Steve and Peggy on the sidewalk. Steve and Peggy exchange uncertain glances. When they enter the house, everything is quiet, and the air is heavy. Steve looks around the room at the strained expressions. Peggy takes a deep breath and walks through the living room to start the tea. Steve follows, taking a seat next to Bucky at the table.

Sam stabs at the pork pie on her plate, swallowing a mouthful of peas. She glares at the steak and potatoes on Steve’s plate. “Why doesn’t Dad have to eat this crap?”

Steve glares back. “Watch your tone.”

“You’re half English.” Peggy smirks at Sam. “He’s hopeless.”

“I’m also old enough to know I don’t like mushed meats.” Sam stares back at her plate. “I’m not a cat.”

“Ah, I see.” Peggy takes another bite and lets out a quiet purr, cut short by her own laughter.

Sam cracks up, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I did it quite often when you were young. You rather enjoyed playing kitten.” Peggy grins, “Fed you this ‘crap’ too.”

“From a dish on the floor.” Steve chuckles at Peggy’s reddening face and turns back to Sam. “You were pretty invested.”

“There was an entire week you refused to eat a single meal at the table.”

“It was a rough week,” Steve groans. “Your mother kept crawling around the house purring, and you insisted on sleeping at the foot of our bed.”

Sam groans, scrunching her nose.

“You woke up every time we tried to move you back to your own bed.” Peggy glances at her.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “We had to move to your bed a few times.”

“Oh, gross!” Sam yells with her eyes squeezed shut. “I still sleep in that bed! I can’t believe you. It was only a week.”

“We didn’t know that at the time, love. You were quite committed.”

She narrows her eyes and looks back and forth between them. “You don’t still use my bed, right?”

Peggy bursts into laughter.

“Of course not.” Steve cracks a smile. “Ours is much nicer.”

Sam sits back, pushing the food around her plate.

“That armchair, though, is really quite fun.” Sam coughs up her last bite, and Peggy adds, “And this table is-”

“Stop,” Sam growls, “Just stop. I get it. You’ve done it everywhere.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset, love. It’s only natural.” Peggy cocks her head to the side with a smirk, eyes big and round. “It’s healthy.”

Sam grumbles, returning to her dinner. “You wouldn’t say that if I started listing places where Tony and I have-”

Steve’s beer bottle shatters in his hand. He shoves his chair back, knocking it over, and jerks his plate from the table. He leaves his half-eaten steak on the counter and yanks a towel off the oven door handle. He tosses the towel over the mess of beer and glass and continues walking toward the door.

“Steve, where are you going?” Peggy pushes her chair out.

“Stark’s.”

Sam jumps up from the table and trails immediately behind Peggy, chasing him down. “Dad, you can’t possibly be considering-”

“Go back inside, Samantha.” Steve lifts the garage door open.

“Steve, stop.” Peggy runs forward and grabs his elbow. “You knew already. What’s wrong?”

“You knew?” Sam stops in the driveway, staring after them.

“What’s wrong is she has a list of places, Peg. A whole goddamn list!” Steve turns around, throwing a glare at Sam over Peggy’s shoulder before locking eyes with Peggy. “A list I have no doubt came from him and his _experience_.”

“What did you expect?” Peggy tightens her grip on his arm when he tries to pull away.

“I don’t know. Not a list.” Steve’s shoulders drop, and he looks back at Sam. “How could you let him use you like that?”

“Let him use me?” Sam scrunches her eyebrows and blinks several times. “Dad, we made that decision together.”

Peggy looks at Sam with a soft smile. “Why don’t you go back inside, love.”

Sam huffs and turns back to the house.

Peggy watches her walk back up the sidewalk and shut the door behind her. She turns to Steve and snickers at the groan of their car’s suspension as he leans against the back bumper. “Steve.”

“Yeah,” he straightens up, wrapping his hands around her waist, and lifts her onto the trunk, “I know.”

“She seems to have a very healthy relationship with Tony.” She leans forward, resting her head against his. “There’s no reason they shouldn’t have an intimate relationship too.”

“She’s seventeen.” He rubs a hand across his forehead.

“We’ve had that conversation, my darling.”

“Yeah, but now I _know_. I can’t just pretend it’s not happening anymore.” He draws his hand down across his jaw. “She’s my baby.”

“She’s seventeen.” Peggy smiles and runs her fingers through his hair. “She’s almost an adult.”

“Yeah, and I am not ready for that.” He shakes his head. “I still see the three year old who needs to feel my heartbeat to fall asleep. I want to pick her up to reach the top shelf and untangle her from her book bag. Read her stories about heroes in history and help her write the one history forgot.” He glances up at Peggy’s pink cheeks. “I’m not ready for her to not need me.”

“It’s not a bad thing.” Peggy chuckles, “And Tony seems to understand Sam on a level no one else does.”

“He’s leaving in less than a year. It’ll kill her if they break up.”

“Maybe she’ll go with him.”

Steve scoffs, “Have you gotten the impression she’s open to that idea? Because I’ve talked with her several times, and she seems pretty set on SHIELD.”

“I was pretty set on going back to London until I met you.” She winks at him. “You never know.”

“I know she’s getting too old too fast.”

She sighs, “I agree. I just wish we could go back.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking at Peggy from the corner of his eye. “You know, we could.”

“Steve.” She swats his shoulder.

“It was a joke.” He pulls her off the trunk and nudges her toward the door. “Mostly.”

She tosses an unamused smile over her shoulder. “Let’s go see if we can change her mind.”

“You’ll purr some more later?”

“Maybe I’ll even find the ears and collar.” She reaches for the doorknob.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He runs to catch up with her and pins her to the wall. He buries both hands in her hair, tilting her face up.

“Steve!”

Her gasp is interrupted by Steve’s mouth on her hers. He presses in closer to her, pushing her firmly against the brick. His tongue traces the outline of her lips, making her moan, before he kisses her again. He doesn’t pull away until his own lungs burn.

“Christ, Rogers.” Peggy’s voice is barely audible through her panting.

He takes a deep breath and grins. “That should hold me until tonight.”

Peggy smacks his arm before following him into the living room. “Sam, have you given any thought to college?”

“Yes,” she narrows her eyes at Peggy, “it’s not for me.”

“You know Tony will be moving next year, love.”

Sam scoffs, “I expected this from Dad, but you?”

“We just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Steve takes a deep breath.

“Mom, I can’t believe you would try to use Tony against me.” Sam stands with a huff.

“Sam,” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, “we just want to have a conversation.”

“Well, it’s not up for discussion.” Sam pushes past Steve.

“Samantha Michelle Rogers.” Peggy raises her voice. “We are your parents, and we have a right to be involved in your life. I’m growing tired of these petty tantrums because you don’t like what we’re saying.”

Peggy follows Sam down the hall and stops outside her doorway, locking eyes with Sam. “Close that door on me, and it will be the last time you make that mistake.”

Sam grits her teeth, fingers curling into the door. Her whole body aches to slam it in Peggy’s face. Steve creeps down the hall to stand beside Peggy. With a huff, Sam throws the door open, smashing the doorknob into the wall. “Fine. Talk.”

“Honey,” Steve’s tone is calming, “long distance relationships are hard.”

“Sounds like a win-win for you,” Sam sneers. “Either Tony and I break up and stop sleeping together or-”

“Sam, don’t you ever get it in your head that we would want you to get hurt. For any reason.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “You’ll use anything to convince me to go to college.”

“We just want you to be happy, love.”

“Oh, please,” Sam squeals, “you’ve never wanted me to be an agent.”

“Of course not!” Steve bellows, making Sam flinch away. “You have no idea what it costs! Friends, family, a piece of your soul. It’s not a game, Sam. It’s not pretty. And it’s certainly not something we ever wanted for you.”

Sam opens her mouth and closes it back with a huff. Her nostrils flare. “It’s not your decision to make.” She slams the door shut and locks it.

“Samantha!” Peggy slams her fist against the door. “Steve.” She waves at the doorknob.

Steve sighs and leans against the door. “We spend a small fortune replacing these.” He grabs the doorknob and snaps it off.

Peggy pushes the door open and lays a hand on Steve’s chest. “I got it.”

Sam looks up from her desk and covers her work. “Yes?”

Peggy closes the door and sits on the foot of Sam’s bed. “What’s going on, here, love? Really.”

“Mom, why would you put me through all that training and teach me all those things if you didn’t want me to work in the field?”

“Your father and I-” Peggy sighs, “love, we made decisions long before you were even discussed that put you in danger. You know if anything happened to you, we’d be devastated. But, if it turned out to be because of us-” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “We had to make sure you could protect yourself in case we couldn’t. We never meant to put you in this position.”

Sam nods slowly. “I still want to do it.”

“It’s a very lonely life, dear. We’re an extremely rare case in this business.” Peggy stands up and rubs Sam’s shoulder. “We really do just want you to be happy.”

Sam drops her eyes and massages her palm. “I know, Mom.”

“Goodnight, love.” Peggy leans over and kisses Sam’s hair before leaving. “We’ll get you a new doorknob tomorrow.”

Sam chuckles to herself and uncovers the canvas of her parents. She’s almost done with the sketch. And then, the painting. She huffs.

* * *

Steve watches Sam from the sidelines. He put her up against Blackwell, the youngest agent on his team. She blocks punch after punch before finally throwing a few of her own.

She’s holding back, giving him a decent workout. Although, she’s not getting much of one at all. Her punches fall in quick succession, each one making contact with her target. Gut punch to get him to drop his guard. One to the jaw, and an elbow between his shoulders. He crumples to the ground.

Sam glances up to Steve. He nods before looking toward the opening door.

Sam follows his gaze and grins. “Uncle Bucky!”

He chuckles, “Couldn’t miss your first day of training.” His eyes dart to the man on the ground. “Looks like I missed the first round though.”

“Not much of a match really.” Steve snorts. “I have to go talk with the Research Department. Work with her for a minute?”

“Sure thing.” He smirks. “Kicking her ass will brighten my morning.”

Sam scoffs in the corner.

Steve shakes his head. “Cara?”

Bucky sighs. “She has terrible separation anxiety. I can hear her crying halfway down the driveway.”

“Fatherhood is tough.” Steve claps a hand on Bucky’s shoulder with a chuckle. He pulls his shield out of the bleachers. “I used to work with her on this. Maybe a quick refresher would be good.”

Bucky nods, “I remember you keeping it locked up.”

Steve laughs on his way to the elevator. “You didn’t have a four-year-old with super-strength smashing it into your face.”

“I am right here.” Sam gives a curt wave.

“Aw, baby,” Steve smiles as the door shuts, “I know that.”

Sam grimaces at the elevator doors. “_Oh, I know that._” She turns to Bucky. “Sometimes, I swear, it’s like they never wanted me.”

“They didn’t.” Bucky passes her the shield.

“Yeah, I was an accident. I know.” She straps the shield to her left arm. “Does wonders for my self-esteem.”

“Lefty?” Bucky quirks an eyebrow up.

“It’s a shield.” She shrugs. “I’m better with a weapon in my right hand.”

“Anyway,” he nods, tossing her a padded training sword. “I’ve honestly never seen your dad happier than when he told me your mom was pregnant.”

She smiles, swinging the sword through the air. “Yeah?”

“They didn’t want you until you came along.” Bucky grabs a training sword and walks over to her. “Then, they never wanted anything more.”

“Yeah.” She smiles at her feet before readying the shield. “Thanks for starting the college conversation, by the way.”

He laughs and swings the sword at her feet. “Your dad jump on the bandwagon?”

“Mom too.” She jumps and swings at his shoulders. “It’s the topic of choice at dinner at least three nights a week.”

“Good. Maybe eventually you’ll listen to one of us.” He ducks and aims at her ribs. She blocks with the shield, stumbling backward.

“You’re stronger than I remember.” She repositions her feet.

He smiles wide. “I might’ve held back just a little when you were a kid.”

“For real, then.” She takes a breath and sets her jaw. “Dad told me some stories about the other timeline.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Bucky circles from a distance.

“Like what happened to you.” She lunges at him.

The second she’s back in striking distance, Bucky launches into an attack. He flows through strike after strike, alternating sides. She blocks on the left with the shield and on the right with her own sword. He moves too quickly for her to make any strikes of her own. Foot by foot, he pushes her to the edge of the mat.

When he swings overhand, she lifts her sword over her head to block. The impact drives her to her knees, and she thrusts the edge of the shield into the back of his knee. Pain shoots up his thigh, and his leg buckles but he doesn’t stop his assault. He kicks the shield to the side, toppling her over.

“Just keep that to yourself then.” The match ends with his boot on her chest and the tip of his sword under her chin. “Give me the sword. You need to learn to use that shield.”

“You’re not curious?”

She lays the blade in his outstretched hand. He tosses it in the air and grabs the handle. After Sam stands up, she moves the shield to her right arm. Bucky holds both swords ready.

“The story of my life when your dad never comes back for me is not one I want to hear.” Bucky nods at her. “Loosen the straps a notch. You need to be able to throw it.”

Sam scrunches her eyebrows and squints her eyes, but does as instructed. “That seems like it could end very badly.”

“Until Stark works out this magnetic attachment, it’s the best you’ve got.” Bucky shrugs. “I’m going to start slow.”

He swings the swords in almost identical arcs, one trailing a few seconds behind the other. When she bats the first one away, the second comes right behind, jarring her again. When she picks up on his attack pattern, he changes it.

He begins making mirrored strikes. She can only block one side at a time. Seconds after a blow sends shockwaves through the shield and up her shoulder, another hits her ribs or back. If she blocks her ribs, he slams a sword into her shoulder or thigh. Finally, he swings at her head, she blocks. His second swing takes her out at the ankles.

She falls onto her back, knocking the air from her lungs. Despite the ache through her whole body, she rolls backward and gets back to her feet. Her ribs throb as she twists around, launching the shield toward Bucky. She growls against the protest from her bicep.

Bucky leans to his right, dodging the shield. He straightens back up, readying his weapons. “Come on, kid. Aim th- Oh, fuck!” The shield drills into his back after ricocheting off the wall. He drops both swords, doubling over.

Sam sprints towards him. She hooks an arm around his neck and throws her weight to the side. He falls on top of Sam, and she hooks her legs around his waist. She tightens her arm around his throat.

“Okay, okay,” he coughs, tapping her arm. When she lets him go, he sits up. “Well played, kid.”

She smiles. “Let’s go again.”

He slides the shield to her and tosses the swords to the side. “It’s on, now.”

Sam straps the shield back on her right arm and squares her shoulders. She throws her fist at Bucky’s right side. He blocks, grabbing her wrist, and spins her around. He shoves his boot in the middle of her back, pushing her away. She runs back at him, swatting his punch away with a wave of her shield. She drives a shoulder into his sternum.

He retreats several feet. Sam throws her shield again, this time aiming for his chest. His bionic arm shoots out, stopping the shield midair. The clang echoes through the gym. Sam gapes at Bucky, still holding the shield in one hand.

“Holy shit!” Sam runs across the room, taking the shield back. “How did you do that?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, examining his hand through narrowed eyes. “I, uh, I don’t really know. I just did it.”

“It was so quick.” Sam takes Bucky’s hand running her fingers up his arm. “I don’t see any damage. How does it feel?”

“When did you become an expert on cybernetics?” He shakes his arm out and closes his fist several times.

“Every now and then I pay attention to Tony and his dad’s discussions.” She shrugs and plants her feet, raising the shield. “Now, does everything feel alright or should I be worried again?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Worried about what?” Peggy steps off the elevator.

“Nothing, Mom.” Sam spins around. “Uncle Bucky’s arm wasn’t working properly, but it’s fixed now. What are you doing here?”

“I run the place, remember, love?”

“She’s clearly checking up on you, kid.” Bucky takes a seat in the bleachers.

Peggy locks her eyes on Sam, advancing across the room. “What do you mean it wasn’t working properly?”

“It used to be broken,” Bucky answers flatly, “now it’s not.”

Peggy levels a glare at them. “When exactly was it broken? Need I remind you, Mr. Barnes, that independent contractors are obligated to inform the agency of significant medical conditions and injuries?” Her gaze bores through them, her lips pursed, arms crossed over her chest.

“Don’t answer that.” Sam stares back, jaw set. “She can’t prove anything.”

“Except that you both just admitted to a malfunctioning limb. On camera.” She waves to the security cameras in each corner. “The board would certainly consider that a significant medical condition should I choose to press the issue.”

Sam glances nervously at Bucky.

He smiles, not a hint of tension on his face. “Kid, your mom hasn’t scared me since she was pregnant.”

“That was before you almost killed her only child,” Sam mumbles. Her eyes go wide.

“Before you almost what?” Peggy raises her voice, chest flushing red.

“It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.” Bucky stands slowly.

“It was exactly as bad as it sounds.” Sam cuts her eyes at Bucky. “Even Dad couldn’t break me free.”

“Your fath-?” Peggy raises her eyebrows. “So, this is what you’ve been hiding from me for months?” She looks between Sam and Bucky.

Sam scuffs her toes across the ground. Bucky shrugs.

“My office,” Peggy snarls, turning on her heels. “Now.” Her shoes click against the concrete floor, echoing through the gym even after she’s gone.

Sam gulps and looks at Bucky. “Maybe we should give her a minute.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Best to let her yell and be done with it. Shouldn’t have lied to her to begin with.”

Sam throws the shield with a scream. It crashes into the wall, embedded halfway in the brick. Bucky has to help her remove it. She drops it off in Steve’s locker before they step into the elevator.

Third floor. Sam takes a deep breath as the doors open. Bucky follows her out, meeting Steve’s eyes as he reaches the top step.

“Shit.” Steve’s head drops.

Bucky nods. “Told you not to lie to her.”

“Don’t tell me what to do to my wife.”

Bucky smirks, “That’s not what you said when she asked you to-”

“Stop it,” Sam growls, “Both of you.”

Steve huffs and opens the office door. “Director?”

“Oh, kiss my arse, Steve. Get in here and shut the bloody door. All of you.”

“Peg, I’m not entirely sure this is a work conversation.” Steve’s voice is cool as he walks up to her desk.

“No?” She arches an eyebrow. “One of my contractors nearly killed my daughter. Prime breeding ground for a conflict of interest.” She points at Bucky. “You violated your contract by not informing me of this malfunction, putting how many of my agents at risk?” She glares at Steve. “My top agent, a role model to SHIELD employees, watched it all happen and failed to report it.” She levels her gaze at Sam. “And I agreed to make you a probationary agent with the understanding you weren’t full, bloody gormless.” Peggy’s voice has escalated to full-blown yelling. She plants her hands in the middle of her desk. “Is that enough to satisfy your doubts, Captain?”

All four are painfully aware of the absence of the usual drum of the bullpen below.

Steve clears his throat, looking down at the hard line of Peggy’s lips. “Yes, ma’am.” He takes a step back.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?” She glares at each of them. “Volunteering to test one of Howard’s contraptions?”

“Peg, I’d had the new arm for almost a week with no problems.” Bucky stands up from his position leaning against the back wall. “Do you honestly think I would have let her anywhere near me if I thought that was even a possibility?”

“Clearly your logic can no longer be trusted. Howard’s inventions never work the first time. Sometimes never at all.” She jerks her head toward Bucky and Steve. “You two, at least, should know that.”

“Dad wasn’t there.” Sam glances up.

Peggy shakes her head, curls bouncing. “You said-”

“Tony got him after the malfunction. He didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know he was lying to me?” She raises an eyebrow at Steve before turning back to Sam. “How could you be so bloody stupid? I mean, to put yourself in that position. Sam, he nearly killed you! I’m taking you off your father’s team.”

Sam jerks her head up to meet Peggy’s gaze. “Mom, that’s not fair!”

“I’ll not have you acting so recklessly.” Peggy takes a seat behind her desk and waves them out.

Sam plants her feet. “I’m sorry, and what is it you did everyday for the first ten years of my life? Still do on occasion.”

Steve and Bucky exchange glances, and Bucky edges out the door.

Peggy opens a file. “That’s different.”

“Yeah,” Sam scoffs, “you chose to risk your life. I was just-”

“You are my daughter.” Peggy stares Sam down.

Sam takes a step forward. “And you’re my mother.”

“No responsible parent would allow their child to run into the line of fire.”

“Oh please.” Sam tosses her hands in the air. “If you were responsible, I wouldn’t be here!”

Steve’s mouth drops open. “Sam,” his voice is barely a whisper.

A heavy silence hangs in the air. Peggy clears her throat and flips through another file. “You’re both dismissed.”

No one moves. Steve glares at Sam, tilting his head toward Peggy. Sam doesn’t take her eyes off Peggy. She stands with her shoulders back and chin up. Steve elbows her side, pushing her forward.

Peggy catches the movement in her periphery. “I said leave.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't you love when antagonists have a complex background?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys. Holiday season means no catchy title or decent summary. If you have a title idea, drop it in the comments, I'll give it a look.  
No warnings or anything I can think of for this chapter, except an extremely awkward encounter for Steve.

“I said leave.”  
Sam plants her feet. “No.”  
Peggy looks up from her work. “Excuse me?”  
“This conversation isn’t over just because you don’t like where it’s going.”  
“No,” Peggy purses her lips, “this conversation is over because this is my office, and I said it’s over.”  
Sam crosses her arms. “Then make me leave.”  
“Sam.” Steve lays a hand on her shoulder.  
She shrugs it off. “I’m waiting.”  
“I don’t have time for this, Samantha.” Peggy shakes her head, looking back to her file.  
Sam opens her mouth and closes it with a scoff. “Right. Because you have a whole big agency to run, and I’m just your daughter.” She turns and walks out the door.  
When the door clicks, Peggy drops her head into her hands and combs her fingers through her hair with a shaky sigh. “And how have I neglected you? Not enough help around the house?” Steve makes a show of giving it thought, and Peggy continues, “Selfish lover, perhaps?”  
Steve practically snorts at the suggestion. “But if you’re asking for new ideas, I have a decade worth of suggestions.”  
“Oh?” She raises her eyebrows, making him regret the statement almost immediately. “And how many _suggestions_ did you manage to fit in a decade?”  
“That’s not- not what I- Peg, I’m sorry.” He drops his gaze. “I was just trying to make a joke. Cheer you up.”  
“Just,” she heaves another sigh, “go.”  
“Peggy,” Steve rubs the back of his neck. Hearing a sniffle, he looks up and sees her wipe a tear from her cheek. “I’m so sorry.” He hurriedly pulls all her blinds closed. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just-”  
“You still have no idea how to talk to a woman,” she chuckles, wiping her cheeks again.  
“We’ve been married twenty-one years, and you still make me so nervous I can’t think straight.” He makes his way around her desk and gently pulls her out of her chair and against his chest. “Come here, Queen Victoria.”  
She smacks his chest with a choked laugh.  
“She’s right.” Peggy sniffles, “I’ve done everything wrong where she’s involved.”  
“No, you haven’t.”  
“I worked through the entire pregnancy and nearly miscarried. I was in Tibet when she took her first steps, Yugoslavia for her Kindergarten graduation. I had to cancel on her Career Day because my mission in East Germany ran long. Her fifth-grade teacher never even met me. I had just gotten off a plane from Los Angeles, still smelling like sewers when I found out about her first kiss three days before. I had to talk her through her first breakup over a satellite radio from the attic of a safe house in the USSR.” She buries her face in Steve’s shoulder. “Ana had to help her get ready for her Homecoming dance. Thank God I was home for Danny’s last year.”  
Steve rubs her back. “It’s the middle of the Cold War. No one can do this job better than you, and the world can’t afford to settle for second best.”  
“Her fourth grade play.” She shakes her head. “You and Bucky took her to her first Halloween party.”  
“You couldn’t have known you’d miss her play.” Steve’s voice is deep and soothing. “You had barely been in the director’s office for a month when that mission in Cuba came up.”  
She snorts, “Yes, and it went so well.”  
“Not the point.” He squeezes her arm. “And I happen to know you were an integral player in avoiding nuclear war with Russia in sixty-two.”  
“That doesn’t mean a thing when your daughter calls you in tears begging you to pick her up from the party early,” Peggy sighs against Steve’s neck.  
“Well, see, I was there.” Steve pushes her back, silencing her argument with a stern look. “And she doesn't blame you. Every time you've missed something, she turns on the news the next day and turns to me beaming, ‘that was Mom?’”  
Peggy closes her eyes and looks away. “Steve, you heard her.”  
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “she’s seventeen. If she hurt your feelings, you're probably doing something right.”  
Peggy laughs weakly, sniffling again.   
Steve brushes his thumb across Peggy’s cheek. “She's so proud of you. You have to trust me.”  
“Thank you.” She nods and sits behind her desk. As he turns to leave, Peggy looks up. “Oh, Steve?”  
“Yeah?” He turns to look at her.   
She smirks. “Just to be clear, I don't want to know what you did while I was dead. Ever.”  
He laughs, “Good. You probably wouldn't like some of them.”  
“Wait, Steve-” The door clicks shut behind him. “Well, _now_ I want to know,” she grumbles picking her file back up.

* * *

Tony has Sam cornered by the fire pit. She had been avoiding this moment all night, very purposefully excusing herself before she and Tony were left alone. Clearly, he had worked something out with the Jarvises. Before Sam could leave to get dessert, Ana suggested getting started on the dishes.  
Sam chews on her cheek, watching Mr. Jarvis close the backdoor behind Ana. She turns her attention to Tony with a glare. He’s too busy staring into the fire to notice. She focuses on the drum of conversation coming from inside the house. Bucky’s deep laugh rings above the others.  
“Sam.” Tony looks at her.  
She huffs, “Tony, it’s Thanksgiving I don’t want to do this now.”  
“We need to.”  
“Come on, Tony. We have plenty of time.” She smiles playfully. “Have you even been accepted yet? Not that you wo-”  
He cuts her off, blurting out, “I’m leaving in January.”  
“What?” Her head snaps up. “What about school?”  
“My dad asked me a few months back if I would want to start at MIT early. I tried to talk to you.” He gulps before continuing. “I didn’t know if anything would come of it. And then, he pulled it off. Principal Andrews agreed to give me school credit and let me graduate with you.”  
His weak smile is driven away by Sam’s icy gaze.  
“I tried to talk to you. I tried and tried and tried, but you wouldn’t. And they sent me an acceptance letter two weeks ago. I had to make a decision.” He sighs and adds hesitantly, “I move into the dorms January sixth.”  
She doesn’t take her eyes off him. When she speaks, her voice is flat. “Then I guess there’s nothing to talk about.”  
“Sam,” Tony breathes out.  
She ignores him, walking inside. Bucky smiles at her and begins to ask her a question. She pushes through the crowd in the kitchen and drops onto the couch. With an exasperated groan, she runs her hands up her face and through her hair before settling back.   
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice filters through the background chaos.  
“Don’t want to talk about it.” She lays her head back, eyes closed.  
“Okay.” He props feet on the coffee table. “I’m just here for a nap.”  
Sam opens an eye. “Mom’s going to kick your ass if she sees your shoes on the table.”  
He smiles, eyes closed. “Let her try.”  
Sam snickers to herself, folding her arms across her chest. She takes several deep breaths, fighting the crushing feeling in her chest. “Did you know Tony was starting at MIT next semester?”  
His eyes go wide as he sits up. “What?”  
“January sixth is moving day.” She smiles at his surprise.  
“Damn. Every time I think Stark has reached the extent of his influence, he pulls some new strings.” Bucky leans his head against the wall with a groan.  
“He’ll do anything to get Tony ahead,” Sam scoffs. “Getting him away from me is just a bonus.”  
Bucky lifts his head and quirks up an eyebrow. “Howard doesn’t like you?”  
“It’s not me.” She exhales slowly. “He and Tony have different priorities for Tony’s life. And settling down is not one of Howard’s.”  
Bucky nods and props his feet back up. “Would you grab me a couple of beers?”  
“Is that the only reason you tolerated this discussion?” Sam snickers, standing up.  
He shoots a finger gun at her and winks.  
Sam returns with two bottles in her hand and sets them down on the coffee table before sitting back on the couch. Bucky cracks open both beers and looks over his shoulder. He passes one to Sam with a smirk.  
“Don’t tell your dad.”  
She takes it, clinking her bottle to his. “I’m not stupid.”  
“You worried about him?” Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Tony, I mean.”  
“Why would I be worried?” The pitch of her voice raises slightly.  
“I don’t know. Seventeen-year-old boy, far from home, surrounded by college girls.” Bucky shrugs. “You’re probably right.”  
She sighs, “It’s not ideal.”  
“That’s an understatement.” He snorts, nearly spraying beer put of his nose.  
“I mean, I’m not excited about it.”  
“No,” he agrees with a shake of his head, “but what’s really bugging you?”  
“I don’t know.” She sighs, rubbing her face. “I guess I’m just going to miss him.”  
Bucky nods, pulling his beer away from his lips. “So why are you talking to me?”  
She frowns. “Because I’m mad at Tony.”  
“Why? You’re the one who wouldn’t talk.”  
Sam narrows her eyes and sets her drink on the table. “You can finish that. I’m not trying to get drunk, and I don’t much care for the taste.” She stalks to the back door and, noticing everyone around the fire pit, decides to go to the garage instead.   
She walks around to the other side of the building, out of view from the fire pit. Pulling her coat tight around her body, she kicks at the dirt. When she uncovers a small rock, she uncrosses her arms and picks it up. After tossing it into the air a few times, she launches it into the tree line and begins looking for another.  
She finds another one and throws it. And another, and another. As she digs a fifth rock out of the dirt, she hears footsteps behind her.  
“Can we talk?”  
“Not about MIT.” Her rock cracks against a tree as she turns to face Tony.  
“Sam, I tried to-”  
“I said not about that.” She glares at him leaning her shoulder into the wall. “Look, I’m not mad. At you, anyway.”  
He nods, walking closer to her. He pulls his collar up around his neck and buries his hands in his pockets. “That’s nice to hear.”  
“You weren’t supposed to leave. This was going to be our best year.” She laughs sadly.  
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about that.” He raises an eyebrow.  
“I don’t.” She cracks a smile.   
“I know you’re a big tough super-soldier and all, but I’m not. And it’s literally freezing out here. Could we go in?”  
She nods and follows him around the front of the garage and through the door. He turns on the lamp in the corner, while Sam starts the window heater. She turns to face Tony.  
“I’m not mad. I’m just upset. And I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight.”  
“Okay, so what do you want to talk about?”  
She shrugs. “Seeing anyone new?”  
He chuckles to himself. “Same old, same old.”  
“Are you calling me old, Stark?” Sam raises an eyebrow.  
“Older than me.” The corner of his lip twitches up as he studies her face.  
“More experienced.”  
“Hold on, there, kitten.” Sam contorts her face and shakes her head, prompting a rumble of laughter from Tony. He raises his hands, palms out, and continues, “Alright, alright. I still wouldn’t say you’re more experienced.”  
“We grew up side-by- side.” She shakes her head. “We’ve done everything together.”  
“Not everything.”  
Sam takes a step back, cocking her head to the side. “Is that where you want this conversation to go?”  
Tony’s face falls before he plasters a grin across it. “I really love this chill, don’t you? Starting to feel like the holidays, huh?”  
Sam drapes her arms over his shoulders and presses her hips against his. “Does anyone tell you you’re adorable?”  
“My mom, but I don’t think that counts.” He wraps his arms around her waist, hands settling on the small of her back.  
Sam giggles and meets his gaze. “I’m really going to miss you.”  
“I’ll miss you too.” He leans in to kiss her and pulls back. “You’re not worried about us, are you?”  
Sam closes her eyes softly. “Tony, I really don’t-”  
“I know, just-” He takes a breath, searching her eyes. “I love you, Sam. I mean it.”  
Sam’s expression softens, eyes glistening with tears. She leans forward and closes the distance between their lips. “I know.”  
Tony pulls back. “Oh. Alright.” He drops his hands to his side and backs toward the door.   
“Okay, I love you. I love you.” She takes his hand and pulls him back to her. “Happy?”  
He nuzzles into her neck, kissing up to her jaw. “Very.”  
She wraps her hands around his biceps and pulls him backward until the backs of her legs hit the side of the car. She brushes her lips across his cheekbone, and he lets out a growl as he lifts her up and sets her on the hood. He slides her coat off her shoulders and nips across her collarbone, leaving a trail of red marks.  
She squeaks quietly, gasping, “Tony!”  
“It’s not fair.” He shimmies out of his coat as Sam unbuttons his shirt down to his lowest ribs. “I don’t get to leave marks.”  
She pulls back, looking at him through her lashes. Sliding a hand down his chest and around his waist, she nods. “You can be a little rougher. It’s okay.”  
Tony gives her a lopsided smile and wraps his hand in her hair. He tilts her head to the side and leans in, dragging his teeth up her neck. She inhales sharply when he bites the base of her neck, leaving a red ring.  
“I’m sorry.” He pulls away quickly, gently massaging the area. “You said I could-”   
“No,” Sam whispers, “it was good. Just surprised me.”  
He stares at her, unblinking, as his breath quickens. “You mean, you liked it?”  
She nods at him, biting her lip.  
A grin spreads across his face. “Oh, fuck, babe.” Sliding his hands into the waistband of her jeans, he pulls her hips to the edge of the car and presses his body against hers.  
“Your hands,” she pants against his neck, “are so cold.”  
“I’m sorry. Let me see if you can warm them up.” He moves his hands around to her backside, tilting her slightly forward.   
She plants her feet on the front tire, pushing herself flush against his chest. She takes his face and pulls him into a deep kiss. He buries a hand in her hair, kissing down the other side of her neck. She slides both hands into his shirt, wrapping her arms around him. When he bites the base of her neck again, she drags her fingernails down his back with a soft moan. He brushes his lips gently over the fresh bruise, blowing warm air against her skin.  
“Oh, God, Tony.” Her head falls back when Tony releases her hair, sliding his hand under her shirt.  
“Hey!” Steve’s shout is enough to break them apart. “What _the hell_ are you doing with my daughter?”  
“Fuck.” Tony takes several clumsy steps away from Sam, carefully angling his back to Steve. He barley manages to croak out an answer, even if it is a weak one. “Talking?”  
Steve walks further into the garage and lowers his voice to an ominously calm level. “Since when does talking require you to have a hand in her pants?”  
“Dad, you already-”  
“Tony, go back in the house.” Steve bites out, silencing Sam.  
“I would. Really.” Tony shifts. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea at the moment.”  
“Oh, God,” Steve groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Sam. Outside.”  
She drops backward onto the hood, groaning. The thud echoes through the garage.  
“Sam!”  
“Okay. I’m going.” She rolls off the front end of the vehicle. She rubs Tony’s shoulder has she passes and follows Steve out the door. “Dad, what’s wrong? You know that-”  
Steve throws a hand up. “Yeah, I know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I just- Sam, it’s not- God, Sam.”  
“What did he do to you?” He takes her by the chin and turns her head both directions. He looks up and down her neck, muttering to himself. “I’m going to break his arm.”  
“Dad, stop.” She swats his hand away, wrapping her arms tight across her chest. “It’s not even close to what I’ve seen on Mom’s neck and chest. And legs.”  
He sighs taking his coat off and draping it across Sam’s shoulders. “I’d understand if you did it to him. It’s not hard to get carried away.” He clenches his jaw, a large vein popping out on his neck. “But he had to try. Hard. To do that to you.”  
“I asked him to.” Sam looks at the ground, face burning. “I like it.”  
“No. Yeah,” the tips of his ears start turning pink, “yeah, I- okay.” He lets out a breath in a quick puff. “This is so much worse than I expected.”  
“Mom’s hickeys are a brilliant dinner discussion, but mine are disgraceful.” She runs her fingers across her neck. “Yeah, got it.”  
“No,” Steve shakes his head, “baby, no. That’s not what I meant.”  
“What, then? Dad, what’s your point?”  
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this.” He takes a deep breath. “You and Tony seem to have something special. He cares about you a lot. You’re obviously comfortable with each other. You have a good, healthy relationship, and I’d hate for your perception of my attitude to ruin that.” He shakes his head, continuing reluctantly, “You shouldn’t be ashamed or embarrassed of anything you two do together. As long as it’s mutually consensual. And legal. And not in my house.”  
Despite her crimson face, Sam laughs and leans in to hug Steve. She squeezes him tight, smiling when he pulls her into his chest. “Thanks, Dad.”  
He pushes her away, tilting her chin up again. “That being said, you’re still my daughter, and I will be damned if I don’t do everything in power to keep it from happening.”  
Sam laughs walking through the garage door, “You’re on, old man.”  
“That’s not the takeaway from this conversation!” Steve yells. “Sam!”  
Tony is waiting against the back wall. His shirt is buttoned and he’s wearing his coat. He picks Sam’s coat up off the hood of the car and passes it to her. She trades Steve’s coat for her own as Tony zips his coat closed. They walk silently back out to meet Steve. After he slides back into his coat, they walk back to the house.  
“Call off the search. I found them.” Steve beams across the kitchen as they trail in through the back door.  
Sam and Tony blush. He keeps his eyes on the ground as he takes a seat next to Maria. Sam glances up at Peggy who’s sitting on the edge of the counter. Sam can’t tell if Peggy’s eyes are narrowed in disappointment or confusion, but she’s certainly not pleased. Sam drops into the chair beside Bucky.  
“I was trying to get you to talk to him.” He mumbles under his breath without looking away from the others' conversation. “I didn’t mean jump him in the garage.”  
Following his lead, Sam’s gaze follows the conversation around the room. “That wasn’t the intent,” she grumbles.  
Bucky snickers, “Yours or his?”  
“Neither. I think.”  
Bucky shakes his head. “It’s always his intent.”  
When Sam doesn’t respond, Bucky taps his neck lightly. “Looks like you had fun.”  
Sam smirks, “Tried something new.”  
Bucky shakes his head smiling but drops it. They both return their full attention to the room. Jarvis seems to be sharing an embarrassing story from when Tony was a toddler. When he wraps up, Sam lets out a cackle and looks at Tony. She notices the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles back before her eyes dart away again.

* * *

  
Tony glares at Sam as the credits begin rolling. He turns the radio off and crosses his arms.  
“Can we talk now?”  
She crosses her arms, returning his glare. “What are you so pissed about. I wanted to watch the movie.”  
He scoffs, “You don’t care about the movie. We haven’t sat in the front seat at the drive-in since we started dating.”  
“I do!” she protests, dropping her hands. “I wanted to see this one.”  
“Whatever,” he bites. “Can we talk now?”  
She yawns stretching her arms out. “I think I’m ready to go home.”  
He stares at her blankly. “Yeah, of course.” He shifts to reverse and turns to look out the rear window.  
Sam perks up and looks around. “Did you hear that?”  
“I’m taking you home, Sam. I just have to wait for a break in traffic.” He watches the headlights pass slowly behind their car. “You don’t have to make shit up.”  
“No, I hear shouting.” She rolls the window down. “Can we just make a quick pass through that neighborhood.” She waves to the woods behind the movie screen.  
He huffs, “Sure, Sam. Because it’s what you want.” He backs out of their spot and follows the line of taillights to the road. “It’ll give us a little time to talk.”  
“Hush.” She waves at him, tilting her head toward the window.  
Tony turns into the neighborhood and drives down the street. He stops at the end and looks at Sam. “I don’t hear anything.”  
She settles into her seat. “Me neither. Just pull to the curb for a minute.”  
He follows her order and parks the car. They wait silently, Sam cocking her head side to side. When Tony reaches for the radio, Sam swats his hand away. He reclines his seat with a sigh, closing his eyes.  
When Sam stops shifting, Tony sits up. “You satisfied?”  
She drops her head, massaging her palm. “I could have sworn…”  
“You know, I’m leaving in a month whether we talk or not.” He shakes his head. “So, have it your way. Don’t talk to me. I’ll move and, with no idea where our relationship stands, I’ll meet someone. Maybe a few someones. And I hope you do too. And when I come home for the summer we can hang out. Talk about them. Laugh about old times. Maybe even hookup. But at the end of the day we’ll both go home alone because we missed our chance. We have something great, maybe even the real thing, but none of this,” he motions between himself and Sam, “matters if you won’t talk to me.”  
Sam looks away and opens her mouth.  
“Worthless.” The sound of crashing glass is covered by a man’s voice booming out of a house up the street. “Piece of shit.”  
Both their heads snap up toward the sound.  
“Okay, I heard that.” Tony fumbles to put the keys in the ignition.  
“That’s Michael’s house.” Sam is already out of the car, sprinting up the street.  
Tony jumps out and races after her. He gets to the sidewalk in time to see Sam kick the front door in.  
Michael is crouched on the floor in the corner, cradling his ribs. Shards of glass are scattered across the floor around him. Blood mats in his hair from a large gash and flows down the back of his neck from a dozen small cuts. The whole room reeks of alcohol.  
He lifts an arm over his head, blocking another blow from his dad. Michael’s forearm splits open, blood dripping onto the carpet. His father drops the broken glass from his hand and pulls his arm back to strike again.  
Sam grabs his elbow and throws him backward. She kneels in front of Michael, careful to keep her distance. When he looks up, bruising is already evident around both eyes. His lip is split open, and several more small cuts speckle his cheek.  
“Hey, what happened?” She keeps her voice soft and calm.  
“Sam!” Tony bursts through the door and pulls Michael’s dad away from Sam. “Don’t touch her.”  
“Stay out of this.” He throws his elbow into Tony’s cheek, dropping him to the floor.  
Before she can turn, a large hand wraps around her arm and she’s hauled to her feet. She rips her arm away, his nails tearing into her skin. She punches his nose, causing him to stumble back.  
“Get Michael out of here.” Sam looks at Tony briefly before returning her attention to Michael’s father. “Mr. Rainey, please stop.”  
“None o’ your business what I do t'my kid.” He sways as he walks back toward Sam.  
She matches his advances and pushes him into the kitchen, one hand in his collar and her forearm across his chest. “It is when I can hear you yelling from down the street.”  
He pries at her arm, digging his fingertips into her muscles. “Mind your own business, bitch.”  
When she backs him into the counter, she looks over her shoulder. Tony nearly has Michael out the door. Mr. Rainey releases Sam’s arm and gropes across the counter for a weapon.  
As she turns back, he grabs a pot from the stove and swings it at Sam, sloshing boiling water onto his arm. Her hand darts out, slamming into his wrist. The impact jars his hand open, spilling water down her face, and the pot clatters to the floor. She lets out an earsplitting scream and slams his head back into the cabinet.  
He sinks to the floor, moaning. He grabs her ankle as she turns to leave.  
Sam reaches out instinctively to brace her fall. Her right hand lands on the hot stove burner. Her skin sizzles quietly, and her stomach drops. She’s never smelled melting flesh before. She yelps, pushing herself upright and yanking her hand away. “I am so done with you.” She crouches in front of him, panting heavily, and presses her forearm against his throat, careful to keep her injured hand from touching anything.  
He struggles in vain, weakened by drunkenness and injury. His eyes ease shut, and his body falls limp. Sam lets him drop to the ground and checks his pulse. Satisfied, though somewhat disappointed, that he’s alive, she runs up the stairs.  
“Tory?” She knocks on the first door in the hall. “It’s Sam. I’m coming in.”  
She jiggles the doorknob, but it’s locked. Sam takes a step back and kicks. The door flies open with a crack. Tory is curled in the corner of her room, sobbing to herself. She looks up as Sam makes her way in. Her already wide eyes grow as she examines Sam. “What did he do to you?” Her voice trembles.  
“I’ll be fine, Tory. You’re safe now.” Sam stops a few feet away and holds out her hand.  
Tory’s shoulders ease, before her head snaps up, and her breathing quickens. “Where’s- Oh my god, Michael!” Tears stream down her cheeks, coating the dried mascara stains with fresh streaks. “He was going to make dinner. What happened to Michael?”   
She darts for the door, and Sam grabs her around the waist with one arm. “Easy. Let me help you.”  
“Michael! He killed Michael!” Tory’s shaky legs give way, and she drops into Sam’s arms. “He told me to lock my door. He was supposed to get me when it was safe. What happened? Where is he?”  
“He’s in the car with Tony.” Sam lays a gentle hand on her arm, noticing the layers of bruises. “Tory, it’s okay. You’re both safe now.”  
Tory looks up through matted eyelashes. “We’ll never be safe.”  
“Come on. Let’s go see Michael.” Sam helps Tory down the stairs, stifling groans when Tory’s elbow presses into her right palm.  
Tory’s entire body shakes. When she sees Mr. Rainey through the doorway, she stops cold. “Is he?”  
“He’s unconscious. He can’t hurt you.”  
With soft urging, Sam and Tory inch through the house to the door.  
The burning in Sam’s face grows too strong to ignore. The cold soothes her skin, but the wind reignites it. She tucks her head down, trying to shield her face, but she left her coat in Tony’s car and her t-shirt doesn’t have a collar. She can’t move any faster with Tory. It’s a slow walk in the bitter wind.  
After Tony gets Michael situated in the back seat, he drives up the street to meet Sam and Tory halfway. Sam walks Tory to the driver side back seat then lowers herself into the passenger seat gently.  
“Sam, what happened? We heard you- Jesus, what happened to your face?”  
“I’m,” she breathes heavily “fine. Hospital.”  
“No,” Michael leans forward from the backseat, “please. I can’t.” His breath quickens with every word. “He’ll kill us.”  
Sam sighs, “My house, then. Quickly.” She winces as her mouth pulls the skin on her face. She clicks on the light in the ceiling and leans over to look in the mirror. Her face is bright red and blotchy. When she sees the small bubbling across her cheek, she immediately turns her attention to her hand. The outside edge of the wound is deep red and moist with a few blisters. In the heel of her hand and wrist, the skin is white, paper thin, and has begun peeling off.  
“Sam, that doesn’t look good.” Tony glances sideways, quickly returning his eyes to the road.  
Sam flips the light off and groans, leaning her head against the seat. “It doesn’t feel good either.” She touches the skin under her chin delicately. She inhales sharply, squeezing her eyes shut as she brushes her fingers down her neck. Also burned.  
“I didn’t mean to get you guys hurt.” Michael’s voice is distant, his words slurred between his swollen lips.  
Sam turns in her seat to face him. “Michael, this was not your fault. You didn’t do a thing wrong.”  
“I should’ve been able to stop him,” he mutters to himself, “Done better. Not made him so mad.”  
“Michael, enough.” Sam’s voice is commanding, despite the tears threatening to spill over. She takes deep, measured breaths trying to keep her throat from closing. She focuses on the ache in her left arm, letting the fire down her neck smolder in the background. Her vision begins to blur around the edges. She can vaguely hear Tony droning on about her injuries.  
“Tony, stop.” She rests her head back and closes her eyes. She tries not to move her lips, and her words come out muffled. “We need to get him home. My dad will know what to do.”  
Tony grumbles and accelerates.   
Fifteen minutes later, Sam and Tony are climbing out of the car. “You help Michael. I’ll give them a heads up.” She makes her way to the door by memory, eyes closed, steeled against the blaze stretching from brow to collarbone.  
She pushes the door open slowly, and Steve’s voice thunders across the living room.  
“Samantha Michelle, you’re forty-five minutes late. We were about to call up a-” He stops short when Sam enters. “What the hell, Sam? The deal was, you join my team and give up the vigilante sh-” He stops again when Tony helps Michael hobble through the door.  
Steve carefully examines all three of them. “What the hell happened?” Tory trails in behind them.  
Sam leans against the wall. “We heard- I heard shouting after the movie, so we checked it out. Mr. Rainey was drunk off his ass.”  
“Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?”  
Sam rubs her neck and waves at Tony. He eases Michael onto the couch next to Tory. “He won’t. He’s afraid his dad will hurt him for it.”  
Steve sighs, leaving the room. He returns with Peggy hot on his heels. She rushes to Sam, reaching toward her face, but not touching.  
“How does it feel, love.”   
Sam groans when her lips quirk up. “Like I’m being cooked.”  
Peggy nods, turning toward Michael.  
Steve examines Sam more closely. She whimpers when he lifts her chin to look at her neck. He pinches the sleeve of her t-shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “Hot water?”  
Her answer is barely a whisper as she moves her mouth as little as possible. “Yes.”  
“Did you dry off before you went back outside?” He hurries into the kitchen and returns with a towel.  
Her eyebrows knit together, and she flinches again. “No.”  
“Sam, all that water froze directly on your skin and your shirt is soaked.”  
She searches his face and eyes, taking the towel and wrapping it loosely around her injured hand. “Dad, I’m really trying to understand, but it’s just so hard to focus right now.”  
His eyebrows draw closer together, and he sets his jaw. “Do you feel alright? Dizzy? Tired? Cold?”  
She leans into Steve. “It just hurts so bad.” The tears sting as they roll across the burns, making her cry harder. “It hurts to talk, and I’m having trouble seeing clearly.”  
He examines her face again. “It’s swelling pretty bad, and you’ve already got some blisters.” He looks at Peggy holding ice on Michael’s cheek. “I’m going to take Sam to SHIELD. Tony, will you please stay until we get back?”  
Tony nods, and Sam begins walking to the door.  
“Baby, stop.” Steve grabs a blanket from the couch and wraps it around Sam’s shoulders. “I’m starting to worry about you.”  
She shakes her head slowly. “I’m just distracted.”  
He ushers her out the door and helps her into the car. “You’re going to have to tell me what happened.”  
“After drugs.” She lays her head back and lets the sound of tires on gravel pull her into a half sleep. She doesn’t even object to Steve carrying her inside. She just pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders, suddenly shivering against the wind.  
“You cold, baby?” He pulls her closer to his chest.  
She nods, humming an affirmation.  
“Good. You’re not hypothermic.” He smiles down at her. “Just stupid.”  
“Why would-” Her voice is strained and hoarse.  
Steve cuts her off. “Because you were running around soaking wet without a coat.” His lips quirk up. “I really thought you’d outgrown that.”  
“I wasn’t running.” She taps his shoulder, and he sets her down.  
The walk to the elevator turns into a trek for Sam. As the initial shock wears off, even the smaller bruises on her arm begin aching. She focuses on that ache to distract herself from the pounding in her head and the fire under her skin. She leans into Steve’s side as the doors close.  
He presses the button for the Med Bay. “You alright?”  
“Just- a lot of things hurt,” she gasps.  
“Yeah, you know how you heal twice as fast as everyone else? Well, you feel everything twice as much too.”  
She lets out a whimper, and Steve chuckles. “Yeah, it’s fun.”  
He leads her off the elevator and down the hall to a small desk. The doctor behind the desk breaks his conversation with a nurse to whistle at them.  
“What’d you get yourself into now?”  
“Hot water.” Steve looks from Sam to the doctor. “Literally.”  
Everyone laughs. Sam groans at the stretching of skin around her mouth and wrinkling at her eyes. “Daddy.”  
“I know, baby.” He rubs her shoulder. “Hey, Walker, she’s hurting pretty bad. Can we go ahead and get her something?”  
“You’re asking for a lot, Cap. We’ll do what we can, but- well, she’s a super-soldier.” Walker waves them around the desk and leads them into a large room with beds around the edge and curtains separating them. He gestures toward the nearest bed, and Sam takes a seat. She adjusts the bed to a seated position and reclines comfortably, leaning into the pillows.  
Walker returns moments later with a tray of medical utensils, antiseptics, and medications. “I’ll try an injection of pain meds. Maybe it’ll be enough to take the edge off.”   
Sam looks at the tray on the table beside her. Her eyes grow wide as she scans the tools. She taps Steve’s elbow until he looks at her.  
“What’s all that for?” Steve nods to the equipment.  
“I need to remove any dead or damaged skin. Possibly scrape the blisters.” He gives Sam the injection.  
Sam’s breathing turns short and ragged. She shakes her head and mouths “no,” unable to make the word come out.  
Walker tilts his head and furrows his brow. “Sam, can you breathe.”  
She freezes, looking at Walker. She inhales deeply, wheezing. She glances at Steve’s concerned expression and looks back at Walker. Holding her hand up, she pinches her thumb and index finger together, indicating “a little.”  
Walker groans, but smiles. “You’re not going to like this.”  
Sam looks at Steve as Walker leaves.   
“He’s probably going to intubate you.” Steve frowns, “And I doubt you’ll take to sedation.”  
Sam whimpers.  
“Is the pain medication working?”  
She holds her fingers up again. A little.  
Steve nods as Walker returns with an armful of equipment.  
“I want to give you IV fluids to make sure you stay hydrated.” Walker passes her an oxygen mask. “We’ll see if anesthesia works at all.”  
She nods, placing the mask over her nose and mouth. After Walker finishes prepping the gas, he nods. She breathes as deeply as she can, letting her eyes fall closed.  
Walker begins setting up her IV. “I’d like to clean the burns before intubating. Do you think you can breathe on your own for that long?”  
Sam raises her towel-wrapped hand with a thumbs-up, not opening her eyes.  
“Let me know if it gets to be too much.” He glances up at her, eyes stern. “I mean it. If you pass out, it’s a whole different ball game.”  
Again, she raises a thumbs-up.  
Steve takes a step back and brings his phone to his ear. “Hey, Greg, it’s Steve. We have a little bit of a situation…No, Sam’s fine. Well, not fine…Yeah, she’s hurt, but it’s not about her…Can you just come by tomorrow? Great. Thank you.”  
Steve steps back to Sam’s side as Walker takes the oxygen mask. Steve squeezes her hand, and she opens her eyes, smiling lazily. Her face tenses as Walker begins working.  
He pulls at her skin delicately, cutting away small pieces. She begins wheezing as the tears in her eyes overflow. Her sensitive flesh screams with the smallest touch, and Walker’s prodding lights her entire face on fire. When he moves down to her neck, Sam squeezes Steve’s hand.  
“Can she have a break?”  
Walker looks up, taking in Sam’s condition. He passes Sam the mask and turns the gas back on. After preparing another syringe, he administers more pain medication through her IV. He turns back to the tray, picks up a small tube, and begins spreading ointment over her facial burns.  
When Sam squeezes Steve’s hand again, she gives a thumbs-down.  
Steve’s eyes widen. “Can you breathe?”  
When she shakes her head, Walker grabs a scope and tube. “This is going to be uncomfortable.” After placing the tube, he walks away with a nurse asking her to bring a ventilator and IV anesthesia.  
Sam eases her grip on Steve’s hand. He bends down to kiss her forehead. When she looks back up at him, her expression is more relaxed. She gives what Steve believes is supposed to be a smile, but the tube and the burns hinder her movements.  
Steve rubs his fingers up her arm. He takes her by the wrist and turns her arm over. He’d been so concerned with the burns, he hadn’t even noticed the bruises. They appear in groups of three or four. Some are small and circular, others longer with dark, rounded edges. They span across her forearm, but he doesn’t lose it until he sees her upper arm. One bruise wraps around her entire arm, a handprint clearly visible.  
Steve takes a deep breath as Walker returns. “Can you believe this shit?”  
Walker’s smile drops, and he lowers his voice seriously. “Steve, I need to talk to Sam alone for a minute.”  
Steve gives him a blank stare that slowly morphs into a death glare. “You can’t seriously think-”  
“I think,” Walker states emphatically, “I need to hear it from her without you around.”  
Steve opens his mouth and closes it without a word. He kisses Sam’s knuckles and stalks to the other side of the large room.  
Walker looks at Sam. “Can you blink for me? Once for yes, twice for no.”  
She blinks once.  
“Do you know who did this to you?”  
One blink.  
“I need you to look at me for this next part.” He waits for her to meet his eyes. “If you answer yes to my next question, we can help you. Was it your dad?”  
Two blinks.  
“Your mom? Understand, we can protect you. There are measures I can take to keep them away from you.”  
Two blinks.  
“Okay.” His shoulders relax. “I just need to be clear. Did either of your parents do this to you?”  
Two blinks.  
He waves Steve back over and swaps her IV fluid with a new bag. “Wait, what about Barnes?”   
She blinks twice as Steve passes the foot of her bed. She reaches out for Steve’s hand and hums when he kisses her knuckles again.  
“We good?” He raises an eyebrow at Walker.  
“She confirmed what I expected.” He nods and sits back. “The anesthesia should take effect soon. It won’t put her under, but she should be pretty out of it.” He reaches for the tools on his tray.  
Sam’s eyes widen. Her breathing goes shallow, and she looks to Steve with tears welling up. She shimmies to the side and pats the bed next to her.   
“Go ahead,” Walker says, “She can’t talk. Breathing hurts. Her nerves are fried. And I’m about to take a knife to her neck. She’s probably freaking out.”  
Steve settles carefully beside her, combing his fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.”   
She snuggles into his side and lets her eyes close.  
“I’m going to get started.” Walker leans in toward Sam. “I know it hurts, but I need you to tilt your head back. Keep your skin tight.”  
Sam grips Steve’s arm and leans her head back. She whimpers and pulls Steve closer at Walker’s first touch. She opens her eyes when she hears Steve’s voice, but his face is blurry. She leans back into him and lets his words melt with Walker’s into a low background buzz.  
“How could anybody do this to a kid?”  
“More common than you think. Why I had to talk to her alone.”  
“I have never hurt her. Even in training.”  
“Just had to be sure. Never know.” After a brief silence, “What happened?”  
“I don’t know. She just-” Steve looks down at Sam and wipes the tears from the uninjured side of her face. “She missed curfew, and when she came home, she looked like that. Tony brought her ex-boyfriend in right behind her. He was beat to hell, and Tony even had a bloody cheek.”  
“Steve.” Walker lifts Sam’s right hand by the wrist, showcasing the spiral shaped burn across her palm. “Shit. If she were anyone else, I’d send her to the burn ward for that.”  
“God damn it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I let her in that house I don’t even know how many times. I mean, she was probably alone with man once or twice.”  
“Don’t beat yourself up. She can handle herself. She’s tough.”  
“She’s still a kid.” He lets out a puff of air. “My kid. I should be able to protect her from assholes like that. Instead I just fed her to him.”  
“Steve, you know you can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t-” Walker glances up. “Sam, I need you to hold still.”   
She tightens her grip around Steve’s arm, but suppresses her trembling.   
“It’s okay, baby.” Steve kisses her hair. “You did good. I’m sorry this is what happened.”  
Walker raises an eyebrow, focused on Sam’s neck. “This is the kid who started those rumors about Sam?”  
Steve takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. “Yes.”  
“And you left him at home alone with your wife?”  
Steve’s answer is flat. “My wife could snap his neck in seconds if she wanted.”  
Walker smirks. “That’s my point.”  
Steve goes still. “I hadn’t considered that angle.”  
Sam squeezes her eyes, scrunching her face.   
Walker looks up. “Sam.”  
She whines, digging her nails into Steve’s arm. When something wet seeps under her fingers she releases him, eyes flying open. Her breath quickens as she sees the blood on her hands, and she tries to speak. She’s restrained by the tube and tape, making her gag.  
“Sam!” Walker’s hand lands on her face, dangerously close to the edges of her burns, holding her still.  
At the same time, Steve begins rubbing her arm softly. “It’s alright. I’m fine. Calm down.”  
“I know it hurts. Your neck is the worst, and I’m almost done with it.”  
Sam forces herself to relax into the pillows. She reaches for Steve’s hand, fingers shaking.  
“Tell you what.” Walker inclines his head toward Sam. “After I get your neck cleaned up, we’ll be done.”  
Sam raises her eyebrows and blinks once.  
Walker laughs. “I’ll just bandage everything up and we’ll call it a night.”  
Sam gives a small nod and releases Steve hand just long enough to give a thumbs-up. She makes an effort to smile and moves an open hand in a circle above her chest.  
Walker raises an eyebrow and cocks his head.  
“Please.” Steve smirks, “She hasn’t used sign language since second grade.”  
“Impressive.” He looks back at Sam. “Can I finish up?”  
She blinks once and gives a thumbs-up.  
“Peggy wanted to teach her German. I said not a chance in hell.”  
“And this was your alternative?”  
Steve smiles, “One of my old teammates had significant hearing loss. I think it’s important for her to know.”  
Walker looks back up at Steve. “None of the Commandos reported audiology problems.”  
“Well, he wasn’t a Commando,” Steve chuckles.  
With no further explanation forthcoming, Walker sets back to work, glancing up briefly. “How much does she know?”  
“A good bit. Enough to converse. Or she did, ten years ago.” He glances at Sam who signs back sloppily with only one hand. His eyebrows pinch together briefly before his face goes stern. “Hey! Watch your mouth. Hands. Whatever. Being in the hospital does not excuse that kind of language.”  
She holds up an ‘okay' sign.  
“You’re really pushing it, kid.”  
Walker glances up. “What’s wrong with that?”  
Steve sighs, “It could mean okay. It probably means asshole.”  
Sam raises her hand toward Steve.   
“Oh, I know that one,” Walker snorts.  
“Samantha Michelle. The only reason I’m not grounding you right now is because you’re drugged.” He leans back and locks eyes with her. “I mean it. Cut it out. Last warning.”  
Sam moves a fist in a circular motion over her chest. I’m sorry.  
“Yeah. Sure.” Steve looks back at Walker. “Speaking of drugs, why don’t I ever get this treatment?”  
“You’re three times her size and twice the super-soldier. SHIELD can’t afford to put you under every time you need a wound cleaned.” He leans back and rolls his stool away from the bed. “But, if you come in with a second degree burn across half your face, I’ll consider it.”  
Steve chuckles, and Walker stands.  
“I’m going to bring back some cool compresses to manage the swelling, but I want you to stay here tonight. If you can breathe on your own tomorrow, we’ll talk.”  
After Walker leaves, Steve tucks Sam’s hair behind her ear. “I’m going to call Mom. You want me to put it on speaker?”  
Again, she uses an open hand to circle above her chest.  
Steve nods, standing up. He takes his phone from his pocket and dials before holding it up to his ear. He pulls the curtain closed around them and settles back into the bed. “Hey, beautiful. Just a second.” He lowers the phone and presses a button. “Sam’s here too. She can’t talk, but she picked signing back up pretty well.”  
“How are you feeling, love?”  
Steve watches Sam sign awkwardly, only using her right hand when absolutely necessary.  
“Like hell- Hey, what did I say?” He glares at Sam before continuing. “She wants to know how Michael is.”  
There’s a heavy sigh on the other end. “As well as we could hope, I suppose. Nothing I couldn’t handle. He’s uncomfortable to say the least.”  
“I called Greg. He’s going to stop by tomorrow. I don’t know if we’ll be back or not.”  
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Her tone changes minutely, but it’s enough for both of them to notice.  
“She’s fine. It’s alright. There’s too much swelling. She has to stay on the ventilator for a while.” Steve looks at Sam and laughs. “She said it's awful, and she wants to go home.”  
After Peggy huffs out a laugh, Steve continues, “Peg, what happened? Did Tony say?”  
Peggy takes a breath and recounts Tony’s story. “The last thing he saw was Sam pushing Roger into the kitchen. He doesn’t know what happened after that, but they could hear her scream a block away.”  
Steve looks at Sam. “Is that what you remember?”  
Sam nods and begins signing again, less awkward than before.  
“She shoved Mr. Rainey against the counter. When he realized he wasn’t strong enough to overpower her, he took a pot off the stove and threw boiling water on her.” Steve clenches his jaw and growls between his teeth, explaining the events that followed. “Peg, I’m going to kill him.”  
Sam swats his arm and glowers at him.  
Steve kisses her forehead. “I’m surprised you didn’t.”  
“She didn’t, right?”  
Sam shakes her head, moving her hands again.  
“She wanted to. But she didn’t, she checked his pulse to make sure.”  
Peggy’s smile is practically audible through the phone. “You did everything right, love. We’re so proud of you.”  
Steve smiles at her and looks up at the sound of the curtain opening. “Hey, honey, Walker just got back with ice packs. Since we have to stay here, they would probably feel better if Tony stayed the night with you.”  
“I’ll call Maria,” she agrees. “I love you both.”  
“We love you too. See you tomorrow.” He clicks the phone closed as Walker sets the compresses on the table.  
“These are special compresses Stark designed, not ice packs.” He bends down to layer gauze along her neck and face. “They self-regulate temperature. These are cool, not cold, specifically designed for burns.”  
Steve watches Walker carefully place the compresses. “Why not on her chest?”  
“I don’t think that’s a burn.” He motions to the red splotches across her collar bone. “My guess is the water dripped but wasn’t hot enough to burn her. It’s probably a cold rash from going outside after.”  
Steve tosses Sam a teasing glare. “So, what do we do for it?”  
“Just keep the area warm. It’ll go away soon enough.”  
“Any concerns there?”  
Walker chuckles, “When the feeling comes back, it’s going to itch.” As he looks Sam over, a nurse walks in carrying a bowl. “Right hand. I’ll come back for the compresses and to bandage the hand in about twenty minutes. Try to get some rest.”  
After Walker leaves, the nurse sets the bowl on the table next to the bed and asks for Sam’s hand. She submerges it in the water and rolls the table so it’s sitting over Sam’s waist. “You can move that wherever it’s most comfortable. Soak it until Dr. Walker returns.” She detaches Sam’s IV and leaves them alone.  
Steve glances down when he feels Sam nestle into his side. “You feel better?”  
Sam moves her hands quickly, explaining that the cool feels good against her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans her head against Steve’s chest, dropping her right hand back into the bowl.  
“Do you want to lay down?” When she shakes her head, he reaches his arm behind her shoulders and pulls her into him. “Come here, baby.”  
He can feel her heart racing and her chest heaving. He slows his own breathing, hoping she’ll subconsciously match it. Her forehead is cool and damp, whether from sweat or water he can’t tell. “Do you want a blanket?”  
She nods, wiggling the blanket out from under her.  
“Easy, I’ll get it.” Moving the table out of the way, he slides an arm under her knees. “Hold my neck.” When he lifts her off the bed, he uses his free hand to fold the blankets back and sets her down. He slides in beside her and covers them both.  
Sam shifts with a groan. She pulls herself in closer to Steve.   
He pushes her back. “What’s wrong?”  
She signs that she’s still cold and her head hurts.  
“I’m sorry, baby.” He wraps his arms around her. “I’ll ask for another dose of pain meds and a blanket when he comes back.”  
Sam snuggles against Steve. Moments later, she’s turning again. Steve tries to keep her close, but she wriggles away. Her shaky breaths come fast enough for Steve to hear it now.   
When he looks down at her, he springs out of bed. Her face is at least two shades lighter than normal, which is saying a lot since she inherited Peggy’s skin tone. “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.”   
She moans, twisting and turning. She rubs her forehead and pulls the blanket higher.  
Steve mashes the button to lean the bed back, but not flat. He should’ve caught it before. He’s seen it a thousand times. Calling for help, Steve takes his coat off and throws it across Sam’s chest. He gently pulls the pillows from behind Sam’s head and tucks them under her legs.  
“Steve?” Walker bursts through the curtain opening.   
“She’s going into shock.”  
Walker glances at the corner of the room. “What happened to her IV?”  
“The nurse took it.” Steve follows his gaze.  
“Goddamn it.” Walker sprints out of the room and returns a minute later. “She was supposed to swap the anesthesia with straight saline.” He passes the needle to Steve. “Not remove it entirely.”  
While Walker sets up the fluids, Steve slides the needle into Sam’s arm.  
“This is exactly what I was worried about when you brought her in.”   
“Why did it take so long?” Steve watches Walker adjusting the flow.  
“She lost a lot of plasma from the burns. When the fluids stopped, her blood pressure began dropping again. Her heart couldn’t pump blood through her body.”  
“She’ll be alright, now, then?”  
Walker snickers, adjusting the ventilator. “Remember when the Commandos would come back with multiple stab wounds, and you’d tell them to walk it off because they had another mission?”  
Steve glares at him.  
“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands, backing away. “We caught it quickly. I increased the ventilator settings, so she’ll get more oxygen. She should be fine. I’ll get another blanket too.”  
Steve nods. “Thank you.”   
“If she doesn’t look better in half an hour, call me.” As he pulls back the curtain, he glances at Steve. “You should rest too.”  
When Walker walks in carrying a stack of blankets, Steve is still standing, watching Sam. “Do you want another bed?”  
Steve rubs his eyes and looks up. “Yeah, probably. Can I just grab the one next to us?”  
“I don’t see why not.” Walker shrugs and leaves them alone.  
As Steve turns to leave, Sam brushes his fingers. He turns to see her hold her hand up, fingers splayed, and touch her thumb to her forehead.   
She attempts to smile when he makes a motion similar to firing finger guns. He had always called her speedy when they signed. Apparently, all she did as a child was run away from them. She waves him over to sit beside her and leans against his chest.  
“What’s wrong, baby?” He leans away so he can watch her response.  
She signs that her throat hurts a little.  
Steve signs back, _That’s normal with a tube._  
_Okay._  
_Do you want me to ask for a sedative?_ He has to spell out “sedative,” because he never learned much medical terminology.  
_No, it’s not bad._ She lays back against the bed, pillows still under her legs. She blinks slowly. _I was so scared._  
He waits for her to open her eyes. _Tell me_.   
_I didn’t know what to do. We didn’t have a plan. But Michael._ She blinks and tears slide down her cheeks._ We had to do something, and I was the only one who could._  
When she collapses against him, he squeezes her close. “It’s okay, baby. You made the right call. A leader should be the last to leave a dangerous situation.”  
She just wraps her arms around Steve’s waist.  
He takes her right wrist and raises an eyebrow at her. “You’re supposed to be soaking this.” He drags her hand to the table and places it in the bowl.  
_It happened so fast. I tried to stop him, but it only made it worse. He just wouldn’t stop._  
“It’s okay, baby. You did enough, probably saved Michael’s life.”  
_It hurts so bad._   
“I know, and I’m sorry.” He pulls the tray table over the bed and slides his arm behind her, letting her curl into his chest.  
The position is awkward. With Steve on her right side, she can rest the uninjured half of her face on his chest, but her arm stretches between them to soak her hand in the water. She doesn’t move away. Instead she curls her left arm up to her chest, nuzzling as close to Steve as possible.  
“It’s okay to be scared.” He closes his eyes and kisses her hair. “It keeps us alive. I get scared all the time, especially since you joined the team. It terrifies me to send you on these missions, even if it is just gathering intel. Watching you grow up has been the most nerve-wracking part of my life. You are absolutely every parent’s worst nightmare. You've given your mother more than her fair share of grey hairs, and I can feel the serum-” He glances down at Sam when he notices her breathing has turned soft and steady.   
Her eyes are closed gently, lids fluttering every few seconds. Her face is relaxed, expression soft. The smallest smile tugs at the right side of her lips. When she stirs, he pulls her closer and sets the bowl of water between them, so she’s not as contorted. He kisses her forehead, and his eyes sweep across her face again to make sure she's still comfortable.   
His chest clenches as he scans the bandages. “I just wish I could have protected you.”

* * *

  
The following week drags on. Sam is sent home with pain injections, antibiotic creams, and bags of bandages. She doesn't heal as quickly as expected. When the wound on her face gets infected, she's restricted to the house and encouraged to stay in bed. Despite Steve's protests, Sam does not submit to bedrest. Despite her threats, Sam is subjected to wound cleaning and redressing twice a day until the infection clears. Steve has to hold her still while Peggy rinses the burns, yelling about Steve being too gentle and letting the infection take root to begin with.   
Michael refuses to speak with the caseworker except to request staying with the Rogers. He spends the weekend inside, peeking out windows and flinching every time the doorbell rings. He relaxes when Sam and Tony are around. After a few days, he agrees to let Bucky look at his injuries.  
Tory agrees to talk with Greg, but she doesn’t say much. Her father never hit her, only threw her around a little. She refuses to be away from Michael for more than a few minutes at a time. Michael sleeps on the floor in front of the couch. More than once, when she leaves for work Peggy finds Michael holding Tory’s hand while they sleep.  
It’s two weeks before they all go back to school. Sam’s face is healed with only minor discoloration, but her hand remains bandaged. Michael and Tory are uneasy about returning to class, despite Greg’s assurances that their father remains in custody until his hearing. Tony couldn’t be more relieved to see Sam after third period.  
“Your face looks good.” He brushes his fingers over the discolored splotches.  
“You could just tell me I’m pretty.” She smirks taking his hand as they walk down the hall.  
He kisses her cheek. “The prettiest.”  
“You’re going to have to help me study for finals,” she groans. “I missed so much.”  
“You’ll be fine. I take great notes.”  
“Fine.” She drops his hand. “If you don’t want to help me study.”  
“Oh, stop it.” He shoves her shoulder. “You know that’s my favorite th-”  
“Michael and Victoria Rainey, report to the main office.”  
Tony’s eyebrows furrow. “Is your dad taking them to see Greg today?”  
“No.” Sam shakes her head. “No, he’s at work.”  
“Then, what’s going on?” They stare at each other, blocking the middle of the hallway.  
Students push around them, mumbling about being rude. Sam’s eyes light up, and she turns away. Shoving her way through the crowd, she yells for Tony to follow her.  
“Sam, slow down.” Tony trails behind, slowed by the mass of students hurrying to class.  
Sam breezes through, the crowd seems to part in front of her. She shoves the occasional, oblivious student out of her way. “I can’t. Something’s off.”  
As the crowd thins, Tony catches up. They can see Michael and Tory walking from the other direction. Sam swats Tony’s arm and jerks her head toward the office. They can see him clearly through the large window. Roger Rainey.  
“What the hell is he doing here?” Tony growls.   
“Trying to get them away.” Sam sprints away. “Michael, you son of a bitch!”  
Tony watches in horror as Sam shoves him into the wall. Tory yelps and backs away, tears brimming her eyes. Tony wraps an arm around her and walks her to the end of the hall.  
“I thought she was on our side.”  
“She is.” Tony motions to a chair outside the office. “I don’t know what’s happening.”  
Sam’s forearm rests gently against Michael’s collarbone. She locks eyes with him and whispers, “Fight me.”  
He cocks his head to the side, and grabs at her arm. “What?”  
“If we get in a fight, they can’t send you home.” She shoves him and takes a step back. “I’m tired of your shit.” She punches his cheek at half strength.  
Michael turns his head, absorbing the impact. He makes eye contact with his dad on the other side of the window and sets his jaw. “What the hell?” He throws his fist into Sam’s nose.  
“Fuck.” She hits her knees. “Come on! I took a side shot.” Tears pour out the corners of her eyes. She pinches her nose as she stumbles to her feet.  
“Miss Rogers,” Sam looks across at the receptionist, “you need to see the nurse. I’ve already called your father.”  
Sam nods and glances at Tony. “Stay here.”  
She makes her way into the nurse’s office and sits down.   
“Sam, I haven’t seen you in a while. I was beginning to worry that you were behaving.”  
Sam smiles, “Don’t count on it, Miss Sutton.”  
“What is it today?”  
“Bloody nose.” She drops her hand to show the steady drip. “Can we make it quick? I’m waiting on my dad.”  
“Can you breathe?”  
“Not at the moment.”  
Sutton presses her thumbs into various places along Sam’s cheekbones and massages her nose. “I don’t feel any breaks.” Sam flinches when Sutton pinches the middle of her nose. “Sore?”  
She nods. “But it’s fine.”  
“Okay.” She turns around and opens a cabinet. “We can just stuff it with gauze and call it a day.”  
Sam nods and tilts her head back.  
Sutton rolls up a gauze pad and gently pushes it into one of Sam’s nostrils. “What did you do to your face?”  
Sam shrugs. “Cooking accident.”  
“That’s a pretty big burn.” Sutton steps back and throws her gloves away. “I’m glad it healed nicely.  
Sam snorts, “Wasn’t a problem at all.” She walks back to the main hallway and smiles at Tony. “Good as new.”  
“You’re going to have at least one black eye tomorrow.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders.  
“It’ll heal.” She looks at Michael. “Did they say you have to wait for my dad?”  
He nods solemnly.  
Tony leans over to whisper, “His dad came out and had a talk with him.”  
Sam curls her hands into fists and lets out a huff. She leans into Tony and kisses his jaw before they both take a seat in the chairs along the wall. Sam stares intently through the office window, watching Mr. Rainey pace the floor. When he makes his way to the door, Sam tenses.  
He struts out and points a finger at Tory. When she stands, he guides her into the lobby with a hand on the back of her neck. He begins interrogating her, making sure to keep his voice low. She answers timidly, keeping her eyes on the floor. He grabs her face in one hand and tilts her head up. She squirms under his glare as he speaks again. She chokes back sobs and shakes her head.  
Michael looks at Sam. She shakes her head and holds up a hand. Her eyes stay glued on the pair in the lobby. When she hears the door open, Sam leans into the balls of her feet, crouching over the seat.  
Tory shrieks, and Sam loses sight of Mr. Rainey. Sam, Michael, and Tony run into the lobby. Michael grabs Tory and pulls her into a hug. Sam spins around looking for Mr. Rainey.   
“Dad!” Sam eases her way across the lobby.  
Steve has Rainey flat on his back, Steve’s knee on his chest. “You’ve got some kind of nerve. Showing up like this and shoving kids around. Steve’s hand tightens around Rainey’s neck. “You’re lucky to be alive after what you did to my daughter.”  
“Daddy?” By now, Sam is standing only a few feet away.  
Steve’s nostrils flare while he works his jaw. His back tenses and his arms shake. Steve stands, grinding his knee into Rainey’s chest. “Don’t ever let me see you again.”  
Sam lets out the breath she was holding and glares as Rainey returns to the office.  
Steve looks around. “Go wait in the car. All of you.”  
Sam waits for the others to leave. “Dad, you weren’t going to kill him, right? If I hadn’t been here.”  
He studies her face before turning away. “Go wait in the car, Sam. I have to call Greg.”  
Sam swallows hard and walks to the car. She’s never seen him lose control. Not once in seventeen years. And his eyes were dark. Vacant. This is not a side she’s used to seeing.

Sam and Michael sit around the fire pit listening to Steve tear into Greg about the incident at school that morning. When Peggy got home from work, she took Tory out for pedicures to help her relax. Sam chews on her lip and pulls her blanket tight around her hips. She taps her fingernails against her mug of hot chocolate and glances away from the fire.  
“What did your dad say to you while I was getting patched up?”  
Michael shrugs. “Just questions. Where we’ve been, what we’ve said, who we talked to.”  
Sam nods absently. “I’m sorry.”  
“He’s going to come back for us. He doesn’t trust us.”  
Sam laughs, “You live with Captain fucking America now. No one is ever going to touch you again.”  
“Yeah.” He doesn’t sound convinced.  
“Michael, you saw him today.” She raises an eyebrow. “If my dad even catches a whiff of your dad, he’s as good as dead.”  
He doesn’t respond, so Sam drops it. She can hear Steve ranting about being informed and providing appropriate care. She smirks. He always argues with such conviction, even when it was as petty as leaving toys on the floor.  
“It didn’t use to be like this.” Michael leans back in his chair. “He’d gotten better.”  
“It happened before?” Sam turns to look at him.  
“When I was little. Before Tory could probably remember anything. Mom threatened to leave, so he got help.”  
“So, what happened?”  
“I don’t know,” he sighs. “He lost his job and started drinking again. Then one night, Mom just never came home. I tried to keep Tory out of the house, but that just pissed him off more. Then you dumped me, and he started throwing that in my face.”  
“I’m sorry.” She lays her hand on his. “I should’ve seen it sooner.”  
He shakes his head. “He didn’t get violent until after we broke up. Just a lot of yelling.”  
Sam doesn’t say anything.   
“I tried to keep him away from Tory. I thought if I could keep him busy…” He lets the sentence drop. “Did you have to think twice?”  
“What?” Sam looks up, wrinkling her forehead.  
“I mean, after what I did. The things I’ve said about you. Did it ever occur to you to leave me there?”  
“Not for a second.”  
“Come on, Sam. If anyone’s ever earned a beating, it’s me.”  
“Michael,” Sam squeezes his hand and waits for him to meet her gaze. “no one deserves that.”  
“You ruined your face for me,” he chuckles, glancing sideways at her. He takes a long breath, watching the fire. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. Especially with you.”  
Sam nods. “I should’ve seen it. That wasn’t you.”  
“It’s not your fault.” He shakes his head. “I just- You should know- Sam, I- I really did care about you. A lot.”  
Sam drops his hand. “Michael, I- I’m with Tony now, and we’re really happy.”  
“No, that’s not-” he smiles at the ground. “I’m not trying to get between you. I just wanted you to know. It wasn’t about you.”  
They’re both still, neither saying another word. Sam pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and gently rubs her uninjured palm with the opposite thumb. It was months ago, and she had gotten past it. Sure, it hurt for a while. But she isn’t angry or even bitter, anymore. Still, it stings to think about. And this, this feels better. She opens her mouth, and the backdoor squeaks open.  
Steve leans halfway out. “Hey, Mom just got back with Tory. You two mind coming for a minute?”  
“Yeah, Dad.” Sam smacks Michael’s knee, standing up. “Thank you.”  
When everyone is seated in the living room, Steve looks around. “Your father’s case was dropped, and he was released two days ago. Greg has assured me that your guardian will be fully informed of all developments moving forward to avoid situations like today.”  
“Wait, ‘guardian?’ Dad, what does that mean?” Sam’s head snaps up.  
“It means that there are legal channels to handle situations like this.” Steve looks between Michael and Tory. “Howard has agreed to put a few of his lawyers on your case. By the time they’re done, your father won’t even be able to say your names without getting hit with some kind of fine. And Greg got in touch with your mom.”  
Michael goes rigid. “Why does that matter?”  
Steve pinches his eyebrows together. “Because she’s the only other person with a legal right to you two.”  
“If she wanted us, she would’ve taken us with her.”  
Tory rubs Michael’s shoulder. “Michael, that’s not fair.”  
“No, Tory. What’s not fair is two kids being left to fend off their own father.”  
“Listen, Michael,” Steve runs a hand through his hair, “your mom-”  
Peggy moves across the room to sit on the coffee table in front of Michael. “I can’t pretend to know what was going on in her head. But I can promise you, as a mother, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my daughter. Even if it came down to leaving her, and I would hope she understood.”  
Michael shakes his head. “She left us there to die. How is that protecting us?”  
“I don’t know, dear. People do irrational things when they’re desperate.” She pats his knee before returning to her seat. “But give her a chance.”  
“If it helps,” Steve steps back in, “from the way Greg was talking, I don’t believe she left with the intention of abandoning you. He said she broke down in tears when he explained the situation.”  
“I just-” Michael shakes his head and drags a hand across his jaw. “I thought we were- you would- I just need some time.”  
Steve looks at Sam and Peggy, jerking his head toward the hall. “Yeah. Sure.”  
Sam stands reluctantly and follows Peggy out of the room. She can hear Michael and Tory murmuring in the living room. He still sounds angry, but Tory seems open. It’s not going to be an easy transition for them, but it probably is for the best.

* * *

  
Sam pulls a glass from one of the roving waiter’s trays and sinks back into the crowd. The Stark New Year’s Eve party is almost as big as the one in Times Square. She turns and shoves her way through the open double doors. The crowd thins outside, and Sam easily sweeps between groups of partygoers. She scans the crowd to find Tony sitting on a bench in the corner of the yard.  
As she sets her sights on Tony, her glass is tugged gently from her hand.  
“Nice try.” Steve takes a sip and raises his eyebrows.  
Peggy smacks Steve’s chest and gives a lopsided grin. “Oh, let her have one. It’s almost midnight.”  
Steve reaches the glass out to Sam and pulls it back, holding up a finger. “One. For toasting.”  
Sam smiles, observing Peggy’s glassy eyes and abnormally relaxed posture. “Speaking of toasted, you may want to slow her down.”  
Peggy glares, face momentarily stony. “I’m fine.”  
Steve glances at her, taking her by the chin to examine her face. “I can handle her.”  
Sam groans, “That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”  
“Oh, love, you haven’t stopped us in seventeen years,” Peggy snickers. “And that’s certainly not going to change tonight.”  
Sam scrunches her nose. “I think I’ll just sleep here.”  
Steve’s face drops. “Like hell you will.”  
Sam turns away with a wink.  
“Samantha.” Steve pulls her shoulder to turn her around. “Stay where I can see you.”  
As he watches her disappear into the horde, he groans. “Why in God’s name did you buy her that dress?”  
“What’s wrong with it?” Peggy straightens up, staring after Sam.  
“The hemline for starters.”  
“It covers everything.”  
“Barely,” he scoffs.  
Peggy raises the pitch of her voice. “It’s long sleeve with a high neckline. What more do want?”  
“Fabric covering her back.” Steve crosses his arms.  
“Steven,” Peggy swats his arm, “don’t be a prude. It’s cute.”  
“It’s trouble.”  
Peggy rolls her eyes. “Well, since we’re talking about showing skin.” She tugs at his lapels. “I’d like to show you more of mine.”  
“The second we get home, I promise.” Steve grins. “I want to keep an eye on those two.”  
She smooths his jacket down over his chest and tilts her chin up, tongue between her teeth. “This is the second most populated place in New York. They’ll be fine.”  
“I don’t trust him, Peg.” He takes her chin and kisses her softly, scanning the mass for Sam.  
“Well, there are what, six bedrooms?” When he nods, she continues, “So, if we take one, that lessens their chances by fifteen percent.”  
He chuckles, “And if I watch them all night, it lessens them by a hundred percent.”  
She takes a step back with a pout. “Yours too.” As she turns to leave, she looks over her shoulder and pops a hip to the side. “So, will you be joining me or am I on my own?”  
Steve continues scanning before doing a doubletake. “Wait, what?” He jogs after her. “Can it be both?”  
Sam skirts around the empty pool and creeps up behind Tony. She plants a kiss behind his ear and wraps her arms around his waist.  
“Hey, babe.” Tony turns his head to kiss her lips. “I see you got your champagne.”  
She nods, and he wraps her in a hug. “I love this dress. The gold accents are so hot.” His hand brushes her back, fingers teasing with the thin strap of fabric that crosses along her shoulder blades, and he grins wide. “But this is my favorite part.”  
She shakes her head and lets him pull her down to sit on the bench with him. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him. “Do you remember that one year the Barnes’ came to your party?”  
Tony laughs, “Yeah, Ollie chugged a whole bottle of champagne and threw up in the pool.”  
“And the twins toppled your Christmas tree. Through a window,” Sam snickers.  
Tony shakes his head, picking his beer up off the ground. “You think that’s why they haven’t been back?”  
“I’m surprised we came back after I fell into the pool.” She nods. “Not that I even remember it.”  
“Dad started draining it after that.” Tony pulls her in closer. “Even then, they knew they couldn’t keep us apart.”  
Sam smiles, despite the ache building in her chest. One more week. Jarvis has already started packing Tony’s things. She saw the boxes in the garage when they arrived. Less than seven days left. He’ll be busy finalizing arrangements all week. This will probably be the last time she sees him before the move.  
“Have you heard from Michael?”  
Sam nods. “He said his dad always blamed his mom for the outburst when they were little. She thought if she left, he wouldn’t have a reason to get angry.”  
“She thought leaving them was the best way to keep them safe.” Tony’s voice sounds distant. “God, I can’t imagine.”  
He glances at Sam. Her eyes are hazy, focused on something a million miles away. Her mind is wandering. “Can you see from here?”  
“Hm?” Sam clears her throat and looks at Tony.  
“The screen. Can you see it?”  
She looks up to see the ball in Times Square rotating at the top of its pole. “Yeah, bright and clear.”  
“Hey,” he pinches his eyebrows together, “what’s going on?”  
Her smile broadens. “Nothing. Just waiting for my New Year’s kiss.”  
“You know,” he rests his forehead against hers, twirling a strand of her hair, “we should probably end the year on a high note.”  
She hums, biting her lip. “I like the way you think.”  
Tilting her face so her lips meet his, she traces her tongue across his lower lip. He takes the champagne from her hand and sets it on the ground with his beer. Wrapping a hand around her thigh, he pulls her hips closer.  
“Should we find somewhere more private?” Sam giggles.  
Tony looks around. “Babe, no one’s looking at us. Come here, it’s just a kiss.” He lays his hand on the nape of her neck and pulls her in for another kiss.  
She moans against his lips and throws her leg over his. He slides his hand up her thigh, dragging her dress with it, pressing his body to hers. She grins with a gasp and tugs at his hair.  
“Maybe I want more than a kiss.”  
“After midnight.” He growls, brushing her hair back. “I know how much you love the countdown.”  
As if on cue, a handful of people shout “ten,” as a clock on the screen begins flashing. Sam looks up. “Nine” echoes louder. Tony passes her champagne back. Most of the crowd shouts “eight.” Tony flags down a waiter. “Seven.” He grabs a glass off the tray as Sam gets to her feet. “Six.”  
“One more before tomorrow.” Tony grins, kissing Sam. He whispers against her mouth, “Five.”  
Sam’s eyes crinkle as she joins the count. “Four. Three.” She glances at Tony. The reflection of the ball sparkles in his eyes. “Two.”  
“One.” They raise their glasses.   
The whole estate erupts in cheers. “Happy New Year.”  
Sam clinks her glass to Tony’s and says softly, “Happy New Year.”  
Tony cups Sam’s face with one hand. “Happy New Year.” He kisses her, carefully taking her bottom lip between his teeth.  
When she pulls away, she throws her arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to go.”  
“I- Sam.” He pulls away, rubbing a thumb across her cheek. His shoulders drop and face goes slack. “I wish we’d talked two months ago.”  
“No,” she chokes back a sob, “No, I’m glad we didn’t.”  
“Sam, I-”  
“Wouldn’t have accepted, I know.” She smiles past the tears. “I don’t want to be the reason you miss the opportunity of a lifetime.”  
“It’s not so bad.” He lets out a sigh, dropping onto the bench. “Only a few hours. I can drive back every few weeks. And maybe you can visit me?”  
“Whenever my parents will let me,” she agrees, her voice trembling. “I’m going to miss you so much.”  
“While we’re being honest.” He pulls her down beside him. “I want you to go with me after graduation.”  
“Tony, I’m not going to college.”  
“No, I don’t think you should,” he agrees.  
Sam shakes her head. “What?”  
“You’re good at what you do, Sam. You’re a brilliant leader, and the world needs you to keep it safe.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I love _you_. And college isn’t you.”  
“Tony,” Sam breathes out, “I love you too.” She studies his face before leaning in to kiss him again. Tears warm her cheeks as they fall, landing in the crevice where her face touches his. She pulls away to take a breath that comes out half-sob and half-laugh.  
Tony takes a long breath and blinks slowly. When he opens his eyes, he wipes Sam’s cheek and chuckles. “Boy, this adulting thing is not easy.”  
She shakes her head in agreement and lets out a wet laugh. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be fun.” Another long kiss leaves her breathless. “It’s after midnight.”  
He snickers. “Can we just kiss tonight?” He looks into her eyes, memorizing every speck of brown in the pale blue. “We haven’t just sat and kissed in a long time.”  
Sam lets out an airy sigh. “We can try.” She covers Tony’s smile with her own, kissing him tenderly.   
He rubs her thigh, slowly tightening his grip until he has a firm grasp around her leg. She tosses her leg over his waist and leans against his chest. Her hands run through his hair and down his neck, as he kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He trails across her collar and up the other side of her neck. By the time he’s made it back to her lips, Sam is nearly in his lap. She doesn’t push to heat up the moment, she kisses him back sweetly, gently caressing his shoulders and down his sides. Tony presses against her, closing every inch of space between their bodies.  
Tony lifts her to the side, leaning her back into the corner of the bench. He leans over her, bending down to nuzzle her neck, and she tilts her head back, giving silent permission for him to continue. When he nips at the corner of her jaw, there’s a cough behind him. Tony drops his head to her shoulder and pats her thigh, pulling her dress back down. “I think it’s time for you to go home.” He helps Sam to her feet.  
Steve glares sideways at Peggy. “Told you that damn dress was trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we come to the end of this story, the chapters may not flow quite as well. There's still a long period of time to cover, but I don't want this to run into 50 chapters. So I'm thinking there will be maybe 5 more. We'll see.  
I've been working a lot on future works in this AU, so never fear, the stories don't end yet :)
> 
> Thanks for keeping up. As always, comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done with the next chapter. Updating soon, I promise! 
> 
> No one seemed to miss the chapter title and summary last chapter, so we'll skip it again.

Bucky jerks Sam back by the shoulders, wrapping his arms around her as he crouches behind a row of filing cabinets. Bullets whizz through the air where they had been standing. 

“Sam,” Steve’s voice crackles over their radios, bullets pinging in the background, “get out.” 

Bucky raises a hand to his ear. “Yeah, not really an option- hey, head down!” He pulls her face into his shoulder. “I got her.” 

“Hostiles in the south corner. I’m pinned behind the water heater. Can anyone cover me?” 

“We’re taking fire from the east over here.” Bucky draws his two side arms. “I got thirty-six rounds.” 

“I have eighteen.” Another voice comes over the radios. “Hughes has…” 

“Today would be nice, gentlemen. Water’s running out.” Steve teases with a hint of impatience. 

Sam glares at Bucky. “This is why I should have a gun.” 

“This is exactly why you should not have a gun.” Steve and Bucky chide in sync. 

“I know how to handle a-” 

“Hughes only has fifteen. Don’t ask.” 

“Alright. Hughes, Reilly cover me. Conserve your ammo; we’re clearing the basement. Sam, shield’s coming your way. You two get out.” At Steve's command, Bucky holsters one of his weapons, leaning into the balls of his feet. “On my count.” 

When Steve reaches one, gunfire erupts from all directions. Bucky braces himself against the top of the filing cabinet as Sam sprints into the open. She catches Steve’s shield and, in one quick whirl, hurls it across the room. 

The shield hits one man in the neck, dropping him to the ground, before ricocheting into two others. Bucky sidesteps away from his cover and moves across the room, only taking his eyes off his targets to glance at Sam. She turns to face an oncoming attacker, jerking the Taser from her hip holster, and jams it into his chest. 

When Bucky holsters his gun to swap weapons, the few remaining shooters raise their rifles. Sam, shield now in hand, shoves down on Bucky’s shoulder. He wraps an arm around her, curling them both behind the shield. After Bucky readies his second pistol, he nods to Sam. They slowly stand together; Bucky braces his arm on Sam’s shoulder and wraps his other hand around her bicep. 

She looks over her shoulder. “Left first.” 

He squeezes her bicep gently, firing three rounds in quick succession. They both take a step with their left foot, and continue backing out of the room in step. As they reach the stairs, Bucky catches a glimpse of Reilly and Hughes picking their way across the room, sprinting from one piece of furniture to the next. 

Boots pound down the stairwell behind them. More than a few pairs. 

“Change of plans, kid.” Bucky tightens his grip around Sam’s arm. “Right foot forward.” 

After a beat, they begin advancing. Bucky shoots the final assailant in the knee, watching him collapse to the ground. He tugs Sam’s shoulder, turning them in a wide arc to face the stairs. He presses the pistol into her left hand. 

“Cover me.” He turns and sprints across the room. “Steve, we got more incoming. A lot more.” 

Steve grumbles on the other end of the radio, while the other men swear outright. 

“Gentlemen, my daughter’s on the line.” 

“Relax, Cap,” Reilly laughs, “I’m sure she’s heard ‘fuck’ before.” 

Bucky tears an assault rifle off the body in the middle of the room and continues sprinting to the man on his knees. After driving the buttstock into the man’s face, Bucky drops to a kneeling position, eyes trained on the stairwell. When the three men emerge from the stairwell, Bucky releases a breath and squeezes the trigger. 

Rounds fly over Sam’s shoulder, and she drops to the ground. “Fuck!” 

“Hey, language!” Steve scolds over the radio. 

“Really raising her right, Steve,” Bucky chuckles. 

Steve groans at the other men’s laughter. “I’m doing my best. She’s a nightmare.” 

“He fucking shot at me.” 

“If I was shooting at you, you’d be dead.” 

“He shot near me.” 

“He shoots near me all the time,” Steve smiles. 

As a guard moves past her, Sam pulls the knife from her boot and slashes through his Achilles tendon. When he hits the ground, she rolls on top of him, putting him into a cross-collar choke. When he stops struggling, Sam kicks his rifle to Bucky and flattens herself against the ground. Seconds later, Bucky takes a breath, firing at the next wave of guards. 

Sam giggles, “It’s like high stakes whack-a-mole.” 

“Sam, stay the fuck down until I tell you,” Bucky barks letting out another round of shots. 

“Buck, I swear to God, if you shoot my daughter.” 

“As long as she stays still, I won’t.” 

“That’s my plan,” Sam calls over her shoulder. 

“Hey, Buck, we’re moving in on you. Don’t shoot me.” 

“I haven’t shot you once in twenty years,” Bucky groans, reloading his rifle. “Not for lack of trying.” 

Steve stalks closer, sweeping the room with his rifle. As a group of guards storms down the stairs, Sam covers her head, and shots ring out all around her. Reilly glides in behind Steve, searching every nook for hidden shooters, while Hughes brings up the rear, watching for overlooked threats. 

Silence slowly creeps into the room. 

Bucky lifts his face from the rifle. “Sam, you hear anything?” 

She tilts her head and waits. “No. That’s all of them.” 

Bucky lets out a breath and rocks back, laying the rifle on the floor. When Sam doesn’t move, he laughs to himself. “I’m not going to shoot you, kid.” 

Sam sighs heavily before sitting up. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.” 

“Oh, the army of Russian spies wasn’t on the agenda?” Reilly reaches a hand down to Sam with a wink. “I always sleep through those pre-mission briefings.” 

Hughes follows Steve, closing the distance between the group. “I was shot!” 

“It was barely a graze.” Steve glances back. 

“I’m still wounded in action.” Hughes begins limping dramatically. “I deserve time off.” 

Bucky rises to his feet. “Yeah, Stevie, this one really took a toll on my mental state. I need some time.” 

Steve shoots him a glare. “You’re a contractor. Free to turn down any job you don’t like.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky ambles toward Sam, “but I need pay.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “You don’t need-” 

The man in the corner stirs, and a small metal ball rolls into the middle of the room. 

“Grenade!” Hughes dives to the floor, followed a second later by Reilly. 

Bucky reaches out for Sam, but she’s gone. 

Pulling the shield from her back, she slams it over the grenade and curls on top of it. 

Steve’s and Bucky’s shouts are drowned out by the echoing explosion, which launches the shield three feet in the air and tosses Sam to the side. Bucky turns away as small pieces of shrapnel slice across his face and hand. 

When he turns back, a small hole smolders in the floor, and Sam lies motionless several feet away. The shield clatters into the wall to his left. Reilly and Hughes seem unscathed. Steve stands stock-still, watching Sam. Not even breathing. 

Bucky turns his attention to Sam, forcing out controlled breaths. No one moves. No one makes a sound. Bucky doesn’t even blink. 

Sam groans, raising a hand to her head. “What happened?” 

Steve’s knees wobble, and he lets out a deep breath. He drags shaky hands up his face and through his hair. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s genetic.” Bucky storms to the corner of the room. 

Steve steadies himself and rushes to Sam’s side. “Don’t _ ever _ do that again.” He takes her by the chin, looking over her face, and leans her forward to scan her back before locking her in a hug. 

She pats his back. “That didn’t go as expected.” 

“No shit!” Bucky throws his hands in the air. “It was a- I can’t believe you just- You just- God. Fuck.” He turns back to face the corner, slamming a fist into the wall. 

“What were you thinking?” Steve’s voice is low. 

“I don’t know.” Sam’s voice is hoarse. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Steve chuckles. “No. Not quite.” 

“Not quite?” Bucky whirls around, fire in his eyes. “Not- Jesus, Steve. She dove onto a grenade, and that’s all you have to say? You can’t- She has to- Fuck, I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the plane.” 

Bucky stomps across the clearing to the jet, swearing the whole way. “It’s a fucking miracle he survived long enough to reproduce. Should’ve let him get his ass kicked more as a kid.” He throws his hands in the air. “It’s my fault really. Always been there to bail him out. If I’d let him lay in the beds he made, maybe he’d have learned something.” He kicks at a boulder, chuckling to himself. “Except he wouldn’t have. He’d have kept starting shit no matter what. He’s just so fucking Steve.” He presses a button and waits for the jet ramp to lower. “And now she is too.” 

Cara trots down and leans into Bucky’s knees. 

“Hey, girl.” He pats her head before walking up the ramp. With Cara at his heel, he makes his way to the front of the cargo hold and takes a seat. She nuzzles under his hand until he scratches her ears. “They’re trying to kill me. That’s the only plausible explanation. They want to see me have a heart attack.” He slides out of his seat and onto the floor, burying both hands in fur. “Or an aneurism. I’m alright, girl. Just angry.” 

As voices approach, Bucky eases back into his seat. Cara curls up at his feet, keeping her eyes on the ramp. 

“Cap, she probably has a mild concussion. You really ought to go easier on her.” Reilly’s voice echoes softly through the jet. 

“I will not. She could’ve killed herself.” Steve’s voice booms over everything else. 

Bucky smirks. Serves him right. 

“Sam, what the hell were you thinking? You realize we’ve never tested that before? What if it had blown a hole straight through the shield?” 

“I don’t know, Dad.” Sam answers slowly, her voice pained. “It would’ve saved you a lecture.” 

Snickers are silenced by what could only be a death glare from Steve. “That’s not funny.” Steve boards the plane with a slight nod to Bucky. “Mom’s going to be pissed.” 

“You said a bad word,” Sam laughs, rubbing her temples. 

“You don’t get to talk. You’re in trouble.” Steve whirls around with a glare. 

Trailing in behind Reilly and Hughes, Sam drops onto the bench seat and whimpers, “Well, you could at least stop yelling.” 

“Hughes, think you can stem the bleeding on your own?” Steve shakes his head as Hughes throws him the bird. “Buck, would you mind?” He motions to Sam. 

“Yeah, course.” Bucky stands with a short whistle and Cara pads after him. He pulls the medical kit from under a seat and takes a knee in front of Sam. 

Steve raises the ramp and moves to the front of the cargo hold. He bangs twice on the front wall and straps in to Bucky’s old seat. 

As the engines wind up, Bucky takes Sam’s face between his hands and studies her eyes. “Your pupils are dilated. Do you feel alright?” 

She closes her eyes slowly, laying a hand on his shoulder. She sways slightly, tightening her grip. “What?” She squeezes her eyes shut tighter. 

“Dizzy and confused. Check.” He tips her chin up. “Hey, what do you remember?” 

“I, um, don’t know.” She rubs her eyes gently. “I was laying on the ground trying not to get shot, then Dad was yelling at me.” 

Bucky takes her hand from her head. He runs his fingers along the red blotches, pushing the sleeve up her arm. When he’s reached her bicep, the sleeve won’t go any further. He glances up, eyebrows pulling together. “Can I look under your shirt?” 

Sam leans her head against the wall, keeping her eyes closed, and fumbles with the buckles on her flak jacket. Bucky reaches to her waist and gently pushes her hands out of the way. 

“You don’t have to check up on me. I’m not a child.” 

He unclips the buckles and helps her lean forward to lift the vest over her head. “Yes, I do. You’re an agent, and you were injured during a mission.” He looks to Hughes and Reilly a few seats down on her right. “Go sit with Steve.” 

After they leave, he lifts her shirt slowly, examining the red flesh along her left side. The skin fades to pink where the vest covered. He lifts the left side of her shirt up over her shoulder. The skin fades back to red where the vest ended. “First degree burn, no broken skin. You’ll be fine in a day or two. Luckily, your clothes and armor shielded most of the heat.” 

As he lowers her shirt, his eyes skim across to blood dripping down her right side. He lifts her shirt until he sees a small dark hole just below her collar bone. Blood oozes from the wound and pools at the bottom, merging into a single stream down her chest. Bucky releases her shirt and clicks open the medic kit. 

“When did you get shot?” 

Sam reaches up slowly, smudging blood over her skin. She pulls her hand back to examine her fingers. “I don’t know.” 

“Can you take your shirt off or do you want me to cut it?” 

She sits up slowly, eyes fluttering open. She runs her hands along her waist until her fingers brush against the hem of her shirt. With hazy eyes, she wriggles the shirt up to her armpit. She pulls her arm halfway through the sleeve with a moan. 

“Just cut it,” she whines, breathing heavily drops ck against the wall. 

“Alright kid. Hold on.” He pulls his knife from his back pocket and carefully slices her shirt open. He slides her arm out of her sports bra, carefully rolling the fabric down to expose the wound, and glances up. “You still with me?” 

She nods and opens her eyes. 

He takes his belt off and folds it in half, holding it in front of her face. “Bite.” Pulling forceps from the kit, Bucky pushes her back against the wall and pulls the skin around the bullet hole tight. 

When he pushes the forceps into the wound, Sam grunts wildly and clenches her jaw, digging her teeth into the thick fabric. Cara nuzzles at Sam’s hand with a whimper. 

“Buck?” Steve’s voice drips with concern. 

“Digging for a bullet.” He glances up at Sam. “You know, it kills me to have to patch you up.” He pulls the forceps back, dropping a disfigured piece of metal into his hand. 

Sam slams her head back and drops the belt from her mouth, breathing heavily. “Then skip out on my missions.” 

Bucky presses a wad of gauze into her chest, causing her to groan. “If I don’t go, you don’t go, kid.” 

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Better not let your dad hear you say that or he’ll pull you from the team.” Bucky wraps a bandage around her shoulder and across her chest. “Everyone needs help. That’s the whole point of having a team.” He slides her bra back into place and spreads burn cream across her side. “If you’re not mature enough to understand that, you shouldn’t be in the field.” 

She smirks, rolling her head to the side. “You think you’re so smart.” 

He chuckles, taking a blanket from under the bench and draping it over her shoulders. “Just experienced. Get some rest. We have a long flight home.” 

He snatches her flak jacket off the bench, and Cara jumps into the seat beside her. He watches Cara climb across Sam’s lap and makes his way back to Steve, swaying with the turbulence. He examines the right chest section of the vest, and sure enough- he sticks his finger through the hole. “She’ll need a new one of these.” He tosses it into Steve’s lap. 

“These aren’t rated for rifles.” 

“Nope.” Bucky shakes his head. “That’s why it punched straight through.” 

Steve rubs his neck. “How bad is it?” 

“Vest took the brunt of it.” He shrugs. “It’s superficial. Mild concussion, first degree burn. She’ll be good as new in a few days.” 

“She’ll be the death of me.” 

Bucky glances sideways. “I know you’re not talking.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Steve smirks. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” 

“Watching you try to protect a little shit that keeps diving headfirst into trouble? Absolutely.” His smile drops. “Fixing her up myself? Not so much.” 

Steve lets out a long breath, leaning forward in his seat. “What the hell happened in there?” 

“We almost got our asses handed to us. Did you slip into another coma?” 

Steve glares at him sideways. “The place was supposed to be abandoned. An old Hydra safe house. 

Bucky nods. “Then who was guarding it?” 

Steve shakes his head with a shrug. “Hopefully we got enough records for the analysts to give us some answers.” 

“You didn’t grab everything?” 

Steve snorts. “If you want to take on the reinforcements, I’ll gladly have the jet turned back.” 

Bucky waves his hand and leans back into the wall. “Hughes, you sure you don’t want me to look at that GSW? Sam didn’t need an anesthetic, so there’s plenty for you.” 

“Fuck off, Barnes.” 

Reilly looks up from his position laying across the bench. “You might need a field amputation. Looked infected to me.” 

“You mean he still has the leg?” Steve raises his eyebrows, eyes darting to Hughes. “Man, the way he was howling, I thought for sure he lost it.” 

“Hey, Barnes, is that where the Commandos got their name?” Hughes grins from his seat. 

Bucky grins back, shaking his head. “There were some French women that were particularly-” 

“Whoa. Buck,” Steve cuts in, “that is not a family story.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I was going to say grateful.” 

Reilly looks around. “Come on, Cap. She’s asleep.” 

Bucky turns to see Sam curled up on the bench, Cara licking her hand. Good. 

“No.” Steve’s jaw is set. “We’re not corrupting my daughter’s dreams. You’ll have to fantasize about Bucky on your own.” 

As Steve and Bucky cackle, Hughes and Reilly grumble about bringing a kid on the mission. 

“They all got the clap.” Sam barely moves. “Had to cancel their next mission.” 

“Uh, no,” Bucky growls, “Steve refused to cancel the mission. We spent the next eight days living in a hunting cabin with no running water in the middle of the Russian wilderness.” 

“Your stupidity is not my emergency.” Steve shrugs. 

Reilly and Hughes erupt into laughter, tears streaming down their faces. 

“You won’t find that in a history book.” 

“That’s America’s most elite task force?” 

“You got any other little pearls for us, Sam?” 

“Don’t listen to her.” Steve waves a hand. “She’s delirious.” 

Bucky glares at Steve. “You think you’re better than us just because you had a girlfriend.” 

“Peggy and I weren’t together yet.” 

Bucky snorts, “Did she know that when she bent-” 

“Buck!” Steve snaps, waving at Sam. “Daughter.” 

“Yeah, alright.” Bucky stands and walks over to Sam. He checks her bandage and pushes her back down to the bench. “You. Rest.” 

“No arguments here.” She pulls the blanket back up to her chin. 

Bucky sits on the floor next to Cara and rests his head back against the bench. Steve was right. Something was off with that house. It seemed familiar, somehow. He looks down when he feels a wet nose against his knuckles. 

“What’s wrong, girl?” He scratches her ears and bends over to kiss her head. “Sam’s going to be alright.” Bucky pats his leg and lets Cara lay across his lap. There must have been something important in that house. Something someone wanted to keep out of SHIELD hands.

* * *

Bucky wakes on a cold table, screaming against the involuntary muscle contractions. Something cool presses against his face on both sides, holding him still. People murmur in the background. A language he doesn’t understand, yet somehow knows. And it’s gone. 

“James Barnes. Sergeant.” His own voice sounds foreign as he growls out the words. “United States Army. Three two five five seven zero three eight.” He grits his teeth through more convulsions. The ambient sounds of the room are replaced by the violent pounding of blood through his ears. His vision fades to white as spasms wrack through him. 

He wakes up in a cold chair, screaming against the involuntary muscle contractions. Cuffs restrain his wrists. Men argue in the background. A language he somehow knows. And it’s gone. “Sergeant.” He groans into the buzz through his muscles. “United States Army. Three two five five seven-” The ambient sounds of the room are replaced by the violent pounding of blood through his ears. His vision fades to white as spasms wrack through him again. 

He wakes up on a cold floor, groaning at the ache in his bones. A thick door is his only exit. Men give orders on the other side. A language he understands. “Three two five five-” he pants, sinking to the ground. “Three two- three two- three-” His vision fades to white as he struggles against his own body. 

“James?” An anxious voice is accompanied by a hard shove. 

Bucky shoots up with a sharp inhale, grabbing the hand pressing into his shoulder. 

“You were talking in your sleep again. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

He takes a deep breath, releasing the thin arm. He leans into the wall, wiping cold sweat from his face. “Yeah, doll, I- I’m sorry.” 

“James, I’m worried about you.” She lays a hand on his cheek, brushing him gently with her thumb. “You hardly ever get a full night’s sleep anymore. It’s not healthy.” 

“I’m fine, Dot. Just some old war memories working their way out.” He takes her hand from his face and kisses her palm softly. “It’ll run its course.” 

She nods and kisses his cheek before settling back into bed. “You know I don’t go by Dot anymore.” 

He curls up to her back and slides his left arm under her pillow. He drapes his right arm across her waist, pulling her snug against himself. He lets her trace shapes absently across his forearm, raking her nails down his skin softly. 

When her breathing quiets and her hands go still, he carefully untangles himself. He eases himself out of bed and walks quietly into the hallway. Cara groans, stretching out, and follows him through door. Bucky closes the door behind her and walks into the kitchen. He opens a cabinet and stares in, not sure what he’s looking for. Something to help him sleep maybe. He moves to the next cabinet. Something to keep his mind busy. On to the next. Something to soothe his anxiety. Or fill the pit in his stomach. 

He turns around and slides down the wall, leaning his head back. He runs his hands over his face with a groan. When he drops his hands, Cara’s in his lap. She nuzzles against his stomach. He digs his hands into her fur and pulls her into him. 

“What’s wrong with me?” He looks down at her, flopping her ears around. “I just can’t think straight. I’m on edge.” 

She whines, nudging her way between his legs. She lays her head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around her neck. “I’ve never had nightmares like these. I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

He jumps when the phone rings. “See?” he chuckles, tilting Cara’s head up toward him. “Always on edge.” 

He stands and answers on the fourth ring. “Barnes.” 

“Oh, hey Buck,” Steve says after a pause. “I was going to leave a message.” 

“Yeah, I guess I’m still wound a little tight from the last mission.” 

“Can’t say I blame you,” Steve laughs. “Anyway, Peg’s wrapping things up with the Security Council, so I decided to come home early. Would you mind bringing Sam home in the morning?” 

Bucky rubs his eyes. “Uh, yeah sure. Where is she?” 

Another pause. “She’s with you, Buck.” 

“Um, no? She’s not?” Bucky shakes his head. 

“She’s been staying with you while we were gone.” 

“Steve,” Bucky smirks, “there’s only one girl in my house right now, and she’s in my bed.” 

Silence. “You’re not shitting me?” 

“Yes, I was hoping to start a manhunt in the middle of the night. You caught me.” He rolls his eyes. “I haven’t seen her since Wednesday’s debrief.” Bucky can hear tires squeal over the phone. “Steve? Is everything alright? What are you doing?” 

“Going to Massa-fucking-chusetts.” 

Bucky snickers. That damn kid. “That’s a four hour drive.” 

“I can make it in two.” 

Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe I should go with you.” 

“Not this time.” Steve’s words are garbled by his clenched jaw. 

“Right, not my kid.” He toes the tile flooring. “It’s going to be late when you get there.” 

“I’ll get to kick the door in and wake them up.” 

“At three AM on a college campus, count yourself lucky if you find them asleep.” 

“Shut. Up. Buck.” 

“Alright, alright. Just don’t kill him. Or her.” 

“No promises.” The phone clicks. 

Bucky looks down at Cara. “No way this ends well.” He walks down the hall to the spare bedroom, Cara still on his heels. “Come on, I’m exhausted.” 

He throws the blankets back and slides into bed. Cara jumps onto the opposite side of the bed, nosing her way under his arm. He buries a hand in her fur, shaking his head. “Lousy mutt.” 

She licks his nose and curls up beside him.

* * *

Sam settles into the recliner after being evicted from the couch. She grumbles to herself, taking a heaping bite of cake from her plate. 

“Thanks for picking me up from school, Uncle Bucky.” Bucky glares at her, dropping his laundry basket on the floor in front of the couch. “Thanks for feeding me while my mom’s having surgery. Really, it means a lot, Uncle Bucky.” 

Sam rolls her eyes. “Do you know how many times Mom’s been in the hospital in my life?” She takes another bite. “At least I know the stairs aren’t coming back to finish her off.” 

“Fair enough.” He takes a shirt from the basket and places it on a hanger. “Pass me the remote.” 

“I was here first.” 

“I pay the bill.” 

Sam huffs and pulls the remote from underneath her leg. A piece of lace catches her eye as she leans over and holds the remote out to him. 

“Woah!” She sets her plate down and gently tugs at the lace. “What you got there, Barnes?” She raises an eyebrow. 

“A girl left them, decided to wash them before I give them back.” He shrugs, holding his hand out. 

“Nuh uh,” Sam smirks, rifling through the basket. “See, these don’t match.” She holds up a bra. “Which means one of two things. She wasn’t trying to impress you or you’ve got more than one set in there.” 

He raises his eyebrows at her expectantly. “So?” 

“So,” Sam runs down the hall. 

As she veers into Bucky’s room, there’s a knock at the door. “Hey, keep your nose out of my shit,” he yells as he stands to open the door. 

“Peg’s in the car. They have her drugged up pretty good.” Steve follows Bucky into the living room, crossing his arms loosely. “What’s going on with your shit?” 

“I don’t know.” Bucky returns to his seat. “Sam’s trying to prove a point.” 

“Fantastic.” Steve snorts and rubs a hand across his forehead. “Sam, let’s go. Mom’s waiting in the car.” 

Sam emerges from the hallway, holding two toothbrushes. “Uncle Bucky has a girlfriend.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows as he turns to look at Bucky. 

Bucky continues folding his clothes. “I have lots a girlfriends.” 

“No, this one is different.” She waves the toothbrushes at him. When he shrugs, she slams her free hand on her hip. “Don’t make me go through your closet.” 

“Come on, Buck,” Steve prods. “Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“I let her spend the night and she forgot her toothbrush. So what?” He shakes his head, laying a folded t-shirt to the side. 

Sam turns back toward the hall. “I bet she’s got at least three outfits hung up in there.” 

“Alright.” Bucky jumps up. “What do you want me to say, huh? She’s got a drawer? Just stay out of my shit.” 

When pink creeps into Bucky’s cheeks, Sam beams at Steve. “He likes her.” 

Steve chuckles, “Yeah, it sounds like it. Old dog’s finally laying down?” 

Bucky snatches the toothbrushes from Sam and mumbles, “Punk ass kid.” He glances at Steve. “Of all the traits you could’ve passed on.” 

Steve punches Bucky’s shoulder, grinning, before waving Sam out the door. 

“So, you want to tell me anything about her?” 

“You remember that girl Dolores from back in high school?” 

A smile slowly creeps across Steve’s face. “How could I forget?” 

“Ran into her at the coffee shop four or five weeks ago.” Bucky smiles sheepishly. “I bought her a little bear from the drug store on our first date.” 

Steve bursts into laughter. “Did you explain it to her?” 

He nods. “Just haven’t been able to shake her since.” 

Steve shakes his head and opens the door. “I’m glad it’s working out.” 

Bucky drops back onto the couch and throws the toothbrushes onto the coffee table. He mutters to himself, mocking Sam. Little shit thinks she’s so smart.

* * *

Bucky pulls a chair out and waves a blonde woman over. In her strapless ball gown, he can see her shoulder muscles ripple as she moves forward to take the seat. When he bends down to kiss her cheek, she snakes an arm behind his neck. 

“We’ll talk about this situation when we get home.” Her eyes dart across the table as she whispers softly. 

“Yes ma’am.” He sighs as he sits down across from Steve. Cara curls up carefully beside his chair. 

“It was a beautiful performance, Lori.” Peggy grins, “We really enjoyed it.” 

Lori flashes a half-hearted smile. “I’m glad you appreciate my art.” 

Bucky’s shoulders drop. “You know that has nothing to do with it.” 

“No one said anything about you, James.” Lori’s voice is light and airy. “It’s a beautiful night to sit outside, isn’t it? The breeze brings a little chill, though.” 

Bucky opens his mouth, but closes it back without a word. He picks up the menu and begins flipping through. “Who wants wine? Should we order a bottle?” 

“I really should just have water between performances.” Lori answers flatly. 

A heavy silence falls over the table. Lori glares at Bucky. Peggy hurriedly scans through the menu, pointing out something for Steve. Steve kicks Bucky’s shin. Bucky flinches, kicking back. 

“For the love of Christ,” Peggy chokes, doubling over. “Enough, children!” 

“God, Peg, I’m so sorry!” Bucky throws a pointed look at Steve. 

“I didn’t- You know what, I think we’ll both have wine. First bottle’s on us.” Steve rubs his temple. 

After another pause, Bucky glances up. “You’re looking better, Peg.” 

“Yes,” she says, “a few pins in the collarbone did the trick. I only had to wear the sling for a few days.” 

“The boot should be coming off in a couple weeks,” Steve adds. 

Peggy groans, “It’s been a nightmare trying to find shoes I can walk in. I’m always lopsided.” 

“I’m glad you managed to make it work tonight,” Bucky grins, “Even if you look like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.” 

Steve kicks Bucky again, this time resulting in a good-hearted chuckle. 

“Well, I don’t feel quite as elegant as Lori looks,” she giggles, “but this is nice.” 

“Nonsense, Peggy, you look fabulous,” Lori assures. 

Steve orders a bottle of Californian Cabernet and an escargot appetizer when the waiter approaches. Bucky looks to Lori. She asks for the melon and prosciutto plate. Bucky nods in approval. 

“So, you have another show tomorrow?” Peggy glances at Lori. 

Lori nods, sipping her water. “Yes, and three next weekend. Then we begin rehearsal on something new.” 

“Sounds exhausting,” Steve says. 

“It can be,” she agrees. 

Bucky wraps an arm around her shoulders. “But I couldn’t be more proud of her. Not everyone gets to dance with New York City Ballet.” 

Bucky tenses when the light behind Steve flickers out. The conversation lowers to a hum, and he focuses his senses on his surroundings. The hair on his neck prickles as a waiter pauses at the table behind him. Right in his blind spot. He reaches down, scratching behind Cara’s ears. 

A champagne bottle pops behind Bucky. He inhales sharply and clenches his fist on top of the table. As cheers erupt from nearby tables, he shoves his chair back, nearly toppling it. He scans the terrace for a secluded location, settling on the gate to the parking lot. 

Before anyone can object, he stalks across the terrace, weaving between tables. When he reaches the gate, he pushes it open and follows the fence tp the corner of building. He leans into the wall and slowly slides down to a crouch. He focuses on controlling his breathing, hoping to slow down the pounding in his chest. 

What the hell is going on? 

He looks up when he hears the squeak of the gate. Cara bounds toward him as Lori latches the gate. Cara slows to a walk and approaches Bucky cautiously. She sniffs his hand as he drops to the ground. She lays delicately across his lap. 

Lori walks up slowly. “James?” 

He glances up. “I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not. And it really concerns me.” 

“I got overwhelmed.” He returns his attention to Cara. “I just need a minute.” 

She crouches in front of him, one knee peeking through the slit in her gown. “James.” She waits for him to make eye contact. “What’s wrong?” 

Bucky rubs both hands down his face. “I really don’t know. The light just- I don’t know. It really fucked with me.” 

Lori shoos Cara away and reaches a hand out, gently pulling Bucky to his feet. She curls her fingers into his hair when he leans into her shoulder. “You were fine. I don’t understand.” 

Images of the safe house flash through his head. “Yeah, I guess the war goes deeper than I thought.” He takes a step back and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

She studies his face, her expression soft. “What did they do to you?” 

He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.” He pushes away memories of being strapped to a table, fire burning through his veins and muscles contracting so hard smaller bones crumbled under the pressure. 

“You’re probably right.” She smiles softly at him. 

“I’m sorry I gave Steve the tickets for tonight. He just really wanted to take Peggy.” He rubs the back of his neck. 

She sighs heavily, “It’s fine, James. I just really wanted you to see it.” 

His shoulders drop at her downcast gaze. He takes her hand and leads him back through the gate and back to the table. He pulls her chair out and grins at Steve and Peggy before taking his seat.

* * *

Bucky sits on his couch, looking at his hands. He doesn’t dare glance at the shattered lamp on the carpet by the door. His brain is already sending him down a rabbit hole, staying present is hard enough without diverting his focus. The hair on his arms stands on end, and his spine tingles. He forces himself to stay still. 

“I’m- so- sorry.” Every word is a struggle. “I don’t- know-” 

“Sorry?” Lori gasps, her breathing shaky. “You could’ve killed me.” 

His throat closes. “It didn’t sound like you.” 

“Didn’t sound- What does that even mean?” 

“It was-” Bucky shakes his head, trying to stop the images from spinning. “There were so many footsteps. You said you weren’t staying here tonight. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to. I just- didn’t know.” He drops his head into his hands. 

“James, look at me.” 

He slowly looks up. Her whole face is red. Her eyes are puffy and bloodshot, her cheeks soaked. Her lips twitch; she’s barely holding herself together. He immediately turns away. 

“Look at me,” she yells, voice breaking through a sob. 

He raises his eyes reluctantly. He can hear Cara pawing at the bedroom door. 

“I’m not-” she takes a breath, “I’m not angry. I know you couldn’t help it.” 

“Dot- Lori, it’s not you- you can be angry. I understand.” His heart hammers against his sternum. 

She shakes her head. “I’m not. But we need to talk.” 

Bucky scoffs under his breath. “Sounds about right.” 

“James, I don’t know what’s wrong with you.” 

“Well, that makes two of us sweetheart,” he bites with a lopsided grin. 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Your nightmares are worse. You can’t go anywhere without that damn dog. And now- now you’re assaulting me.” 

He stares at her silently, working his jaw. The chill in his bones runs deeper. 

“James, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t help you. I don’t know how.” 

“That’s all this was, huh? Trying to save the lost cause.” 

“Stop pushing.” She grits her teeth. “I’m trying to be gentle with you.” 

“I don’t need you to be gentle,” he snarls. “Honey, I’ve had it rougher than you can imagine.” 

“I know it’s not your fault.” She searches his eyes. “I know it’s because of what happened over there, but I just can’t do this. I can’t handle the flashbacks and the nightmares and the- the constantly being on alert.” 

He snorts. “Well, I’m so sorry to inconvenience you.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” She stands. “James, you deserve someone who can manage this free fall you’re in.” 

“Yeah, I got it. Just go.” 

She watches him with a blank expression. 

“That's what this is, right? Goodbye.” When she doesn’t answer, he continues, “You're wasting both our time with this shit. You can't be with me. I don't blame you. So, just go.” 

“James, I-” 

“Do you want to take your things now? Or I can pack them up for you later.” 

“I- No, I’ll pack up. It won’t take me long.” 

He nods and watches her leave. The bedroom door opens and Cara gallops down the hall. She skids to a stop, popping her front paws into Bucky’s lap. She nuzzles his hands, licking excitedly. 

“Not now, girl.” He leans his head back and closes his eyes, taking measured breaths. 

She was right; it didn’t take long. 

He stands as she enters the living room with a small suitcase and backpack. “This was nice. I wish it had worked out.” 

“James, you’re a hero.” She leans in to kiss him. Her lips press softly into his, neither of them making a move to deepen the contact. Bucky reaches up to cup her face and gently runs his thumb over her cheek. She pulls away and rests her forehead against his. “I wish you’d see that.” She kisses his cheek and walks out the door. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Bucky looks at Cara, sinking to the floor. “I killed men who were just soldiers like me, except they probably had families. They didn’t want to be there either.” He scratches her ears and lays his head against her. “And I shot them dead before they ever even knew they should be afraid.” His chest tightens. “I wasn’t a hero; I was a sniper.” 

Cara curls up on the ground next to him. He drags a hand through her fur and leans his head back against the couch as his throat closes. “Should’ve killed myself too when it was all said and done.” He shakes his head. “Hell, maybe I did. That starry-eyed kid certainly didn’t survive.” He closes his eyes, clearing the haze. “So young and optimistic. Had a whole life ahead of him.” He sniffles. “World at his fingertips.” He wipes the moisture from his cheek. “Wanted to be a family man one day.” 

He sits silently on the floor, dragging his fingers through Cara’s fur. One hand, then the other, focusing on the movement. He only breaks the pattern to wipe tears dripping off his jaw. What the hell happened?

* * *

“I don’t know, Steve. She really wanted me to go see her ballet,” Bucky mumbles, kicking at trash across the roof. 

The building is quiet and empty, construction temporarily halted by a union strike. The perfect nest for a sniper. Or international spy ring. The intel had led them here, but wasn’t very specific. Typical. 

Steve peers over the edge, and walks back toward Bucky. “Why didn’t you?” 

“You know why.” Bucky throws Steve a glare. 

“Crowds. Dark. Yeah, I get it.” Steve turns his head, scanning the rooftop. He raises a hand to his ear. “Roof is clear. Does anybody have something?” 

They had found no sign of activity on any of the three floors they were assigned to clear. Also typical. 

Bucky smiles, “I barely made it through Sam’s tap recital.” 

Steve’s head snaps back to Bucky. “Is that the last time you were in a theater?” 

Bucky shrugs. “Drive-ins are better anyway. More privacy.” 

Reilly’s voice comes over the radio. Crystal clear, thanks to Stark’s upgrade. “Nothing on the first through third floors, we’re moving up to fourth.” 

Steve nods, not shifting his gaze. “Buck, that was ten years ago.” 

“Look, Steve,” He shoves his hands in his pockets and sinks into his shoulders. “I wasn’t in a lab with doctors. Senators weren’t lining up to shake my hand.” 

“I just meant-” 

“Five and six are clear too.” Sam chuckles, “There’s a very angry raccoon on seven. Got Mark pretty good.” 

Steve furrows his brow. “Markham?” 

“I’m good.” A man’s annoyed voice echoes in their ears. “But your daughter might not be if she can’t learn to keep her trap shu-” He gasps and grunts, “Shit. It was a joke.” 

Steve shakes his head, smirking. His face turns serious as he looks back at Bucky. “I just meant, was it worth losing her?” 

“You don’t understand.” Bucky wanders aimlessly away from Steve. “It was dark and cold and- and they didn’t get it right on the first try.” 

“I know, Buck.” Steve takes a deep breath. “If it helps, Peg handled all of Zola’s interrogations personally.” 

“Good.” Bucky lets out a sharp breath and rolls his shoulders. He toes through a pile of garbage, kneeling to inspect an odd-shaped trinket. “There was just something about that safe-” 

A shockwave erupts from the trinket, hurling Steve and Bucky in opposite directions. Steve hits the concrete hard, sending starbursts across his vision. He slides over the edge of the rooftop, barely able to grab an exposed piece of rebar in time to save himself from a freefall. 

Bucky is thrown backward off the roof. He crashes through scaffolding, hissing at the crushing pain in his ribs. His heartrate skyrockets as the power of gravity overtakes the momentum from the blast. A shout escapes his mouth before he can think to stop it. His body knows he’s falling before his brain does. 

Fuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is coming to an end, only four more chapters! Don't worry, I've already written the opening scene to the next one. It will be a continuation of this work, so give me lots of feedback on these last few chapters. Also, if you have requests/ suggestions for the next work, let me know sooner than later, and maybe I can work them in :)
> 
> Also, is anyone interested in Bucky's story? I really want to go more in-depth with him, but I can't decide if I should do a chapter in my one-shots or a whole work of its own.


	15. Renegade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's a shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! It took me way too long to write this. A lot going on lately. I really wish I had more time to write :/

Sam rubs her temples and groans, leaning over the cold table.

Steve huffs, slamming a hand down. “She has a concussion. She can’t remember.”

The agent across the table hardens her expression. “I’m aware of her condition, Captain. I read the reports. But it is imperative that I get every shred of information your team has about the mission.” She turns back to Sam. “Is there anything you can tell me about the men in the stairwell.”

“I don’t remember.” Sam shakes her head. “There were so many.”

“Anything at all?” Her eyes soften as she studies Sam. “Our analysts are really struggling with the documents you recovered. Sam, any small detail could help.”

“Agent Wells, I’m trying.” Sam shrugs. “I grappled with one of them on the ground. He was strong. And,” she squints her eyes, tilting her head, “he had some really weird handcuffs.”

“Weird how?”

“They were,” Sam shakes her head, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them before.”

“What was different about them?”

Sam brings her hands back to her head. “I don’t know. It was just-”

The door slams open and Peggy walks in, carrying a stack of folders. “Debriefing is over.” She glares at Sam and Steve. “You two, with me.”

Agent Wells stands calmly. “Director, we haven’t completed the-”

“You’ve had two days. If you didn’t get enough information to work with, that’s your own fault.” Peggy squares her shoulders. “Debriefing is over. With me.” She turns sharply, skirt swirling out around her, and exits the room.

Sam and Steve exchange glances before rushing after Peggy. They trail behind Peggy, glancing between each other and Peggy’s back. Her shoulder blades pinch together, making her look even more rigid than normal.

She makes a sharp left down a long hallway. Expecting to follow Peggy to her office, the sudden turn catches Steve and Sam off guard. They stumble over each other trying to keep up with Peggy. Her long, purposeful strides are difficult to catch without running. So, Sam resigns to trailing behind, keeping her head up and shoulders back.

Steve strolls calmly beside Sam. At this point, he’s used to following behind Peggy. And he’d certainly never complain about the view. Quite honestly, this is one of his favorite places to be.

“Head up, Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes snap up to meet the smirk Peggy throws over her shoulder. Before he can even chuckle to himself, Peggy turns into a briefing room. She skirts the edge and stands in front. Steve and Sam slide into seats around the table. Reilly, Hughes, and Bucky are already seated.

Peggy throws the folders she’d been carrying onto the table. They land with a clap and slide across the metal.

“What the bloody hell is this?” She stares daggers at each of them in turn.

Steve leans forward and cracks open a folder. _Mission Report 12 FEBRUARY 1968_

“She doesn’t read these.” Peggy contorts her face and begins pacing the room, mocking an American accent. “Let’s have a little fun.”

Steve tilts his head to the side. “Peg, what-”

“Let’s concoct an absurd story and see if she notices.” Peggy spins around and raises her voice, slamming both hands onto the table, returning to her own voice. “She noticed. And she’s not happy.”

No one makes a sound while Peggy fumes. She leans into her hands, locking her elbows and pushing her shoulders further back. She looks around the group once more before huffing out a breath.

“Steve, I can’t believe you went along with this. I will ask one time. Who came up with this absurd grenade story?”

As the realization sets in, everyone jumps in, talking over each other. “That’s not a story…she did it…we thought he was out cold…Sam’s an idiot…there weren’t many options…”

“Enough.” Peggy rubs a hand across her forehead. “Barnes.”

Bucky pinches his eyebrows together and leans his forearms against the table. “You read my report.”

She takes a deep breath. “You’re telling me that’s exactly what happened?”

“I’m telling you that’s what I saw. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what happened.”

Peggy nods slowly. “Steven?”

“What are you getting at, Peg?” Steve shakes his head. “We wrote reports. I’m sorry you don’t like them.”

“You expect me to believe this?”

Bucky snorts, “She’s Steve’s kid. How do you not believe it?”

Peggy glares at Sam. “Sam, Steve, my office. The rest of you get back to work.”

After everyone has filtered out of the room, Peggy leads Steve and Sam up the stairs and to her office.

She sits behind her desk and waits for Sam to pull the door closed. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that was the best way to get everyone home.”

“What about you, Sam? Was that the best way to get you home?” Peggy’s eyes soften.

“Does it matter? One life or four isn’t a hard decision, Mom.”

Steve steps forward, crossing his arms. “That’s not how my team works, Sam. We don’t-”

“Trade lives.” Sam rolls her eyes. “Yeah, Cap. I know.”

Peggy lifts a hand, silencing Steve’s rebuttal. “You’re suspended from operations until further notice.”

“What? Mom, that’s not fair. I saved lives!”

“Yeah, Peg. I mean, I hate it too. But as a team leader, I have to agree. It was quick, resourceful, and smart. It was the right call.”

“You and I will discuss _that_ at length.” Peggy raises an eyebrow at Steve. “But that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”

Sam tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “Then, what-”

Peggy silences Sam with a stern look. “Your history teacher called.”

“Oh.” Sam drops her head.

“Oh?” Steve glances at Sam and back to Peggy.

“She was quite surprised to find me back at work so soon after such a terrible accident.” She raises her eyebrows at Sam. “Then, she reminded me of the two essays and an exam you missed while I was recovering.”

“Right.” Sam clears her throat. “Remember when you were in that explosion two weeks ago?”

“I wouldn’t call it an explosion. I caught some flak during a weapons demonstration.”

“Well, that may not be exactly how I put it.”

“Samantha.” Steve growls, straightening his posture.

Peggy stands. “You have a D. You will have one week to catch up. You’re benched.”

“Mom, no! I worked really hard planning the security detail for your trip to the UN this weekend.”

“And I’m certain your father’s team can handle it without you. Blackwell could use more time in the field.”

“I wouldn’t call that the field,” Steve scoffs and looks back to Sam. “We’ll manage. You can use the extra time to study.”

Sam crosses her arms and chews on her bottom lip. “Fine. Tony can help me.”

“Absolutely not,” Steve laughs. “You’re grounded until that grade comes up.”

“Dad-” Peggy’s phone interrupts the argument.

Peggy sighs, pressing a button, and nods to Steve and Sam. “Director Rogers.”

Steve opens the door silently and waves at Sam.

“Yes, Director,” a mature, but quiet voice comes over the speaker, “we’re having trouble deciphering the files from the Hydra safe house.”

“Leave it with Rose. I’ll take a look tonight.”

Sam turns and follows Steve out the door, pulling it closed behind her. “Dad, I haven’t seen Tony since he moved into the dorms.”

“Then you should have done those assignments.” Steve shrugs and walks away.

* * *

Sam stands in the long, dim hall and knocks on a plain white door. She bounces on the balls of her feet, unable to hide her smile. When the door opens, she leans into her toes and throws her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. As he wraps an arm around her waist and presses against her, she pulls her eyebrows together. A hand tangles in her hair; this is definitely wrong. His chest is too broad and his hands too big.

As she pushes back, Tony’s voice echoes up the hall. “Sam?”

“Come on, sweetheart. We were just starting to have fun.”

Sam looks up at the man pulling her back in. He’s tall, almost as tall as Steve. Strong too. Football scholarship, probably. She rolls her eyes.

She drives the heel of her hand into his nose and drops her elbow into the crook of his arm, breaking them apart. In seconds, he’s groaning on the floor. Sam picks her way out of the tangle of his legs and turns to face Tony.

“I thought you were in four-twelve,” she says timidly. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

Tony chuckles, looking around her through the doorway she had just been in. “Well, you certainly surprised him.” He pulls a key from his pocket and motions to the door across the hall. “You’re the worst with directions.”

Sam walks through the door, taking a mental note. Four-eleven. “I am not.” She glances around the room. Two desks, two beds, two nightstands and dressers, each side arranged in a mirror image of the other.

“Sam,” Tony shakes his head and drops his keys on his desk, “you took three wrong turns showing me around the school last year. _I_ was walking _you_ to class after two weeks.”

Sam ducks her head with a grin and tucks her copper waves behind an ear. “So, what? I manage.”

“Do you?” He raises his eyebrows. “Please tell me you still keep Jarvis on the radio when you run missions.”

She shakes her head. “I’m on a real team, now.” Her shoulders drop. “Well, I was before Mom talked to Miss Baker.”

“Ouch. Sorry, babe.” Tony tilts his head and leans against a nightstand. “How’d you convince them to let you visit?”

Sam trails her fingers along the books on one of the desks and glances up. “Hm?”

Tony’s lips pull tight. “Sam, please tell me your parents know you’re here.”

“Well,” Sam takes a deep breath and picks at her fingernails, “they don’t know I’m not home.”

“No.” Tony jerks his head to the side, grabbing a pen from the nightstand and tossing it across the room. “God, I am so dead.”

“Relax, love. Mom has a thing with the Security Council. They won’t be back until Monday.” She walks across the room and stands in front of Tony, rubbing her hands down his shoulders. “We have the whole weekend.”

Tony’s posture softens as he wraps his arms around Sam’s unnaturally small waist. He leans down and brushes his lips against hers. “Well, if you’re sure.”

He presses his fingers into her hips, guiding her back toward the bed. Sam brings her hands to Tony’s face, her thumbs brushing over the stubble along his jaw.

“Trying something new?” she giggles and untucks her shirt, letting Tony ease her back onto the mattress. She tugs at his hair as he leans into her.

“Dad’s not around.” He nuzzles into her neck and slides his hands under her thighs to scoot her to the back of the bed. “Thought I’d grow it out a little.”

Tony climbs onto the bed and leans over Sam. She gasps quietly and tips her chin up when he nips her neck. She unbuttons Tony’s shirt and slides her hands up his stomach. His abs tense where her fingers trail across his skin.

“Do you like it?” His warm breath behind her ear sends chills down her spine.

Sam’s back arches off the bed and her eyes flutter closed. “Kind of scratchy,” she breathes. “But the look isn’t bad.” She pulls him down into a deep kiss.

He moans against her mouth and pulls her bottom lip between his teeth. He leans his weight into one hand and runs the other up Sam’s side, fingers teasing at the hemline of her shirt.

“Tony,” Sam digs her nails into his chest, panting, “don’t stop there.” Her eyes glint in the dim light from Tony’s reading lamp.

He smirks. “Whatever you want, babe.” He leans back and, caressing her soft skin, lifts her shirt over her head. “Shit, Sam,” he tosses it to the floor. He leaves soft kisses across her ribs, brushing his nose against the band of her cheetah print bra.

She chuckles, her chest heaving as Tony moves up to kiss her lips. “The bottoms match.”

His arms buckle as a grin spreads across his face. “Fuck, babe.” His fingers curl around one of her hips and he drops his forehead to hers. “You did that on purpose.”

She bites her lip and nods.

He licks his lips and lets out a growl. His eyes trail across her face, down her chest, over the exaggerated dip at her waist, and settle on her hips. He lays a hand on her knee and drags it up her thigh, bringing her skirt with it.

“You come straight from school?” He raises an eyebrow.

“What gave it away?” She rolls her eyes and pulls him down next to her, turning on her side. “Don’t worry. I packed miniskirts.”

“Hot damn,” he smiles. “I guess I got to find you a party this weekend.”

“Later.” Sam grabs his wrist and moves his hand up her thigh.

“Later,” he agrees, kissing her hard as he pushes her onto her back.

He continues sliding his hand up until he feels nylon, tight against her hip. He pulls away, breathless and bunches the skirt around her waist, exposing the cheetah print. He groans at the sight of her hip-hugging panties tucked under a matching corset.

Sam sits up and buries her hands in Tony’s hair. Closing the distance between their mouths, she spreads his lips apart with her tongue. He wraps his hands around her waist, pulling her up to her knees, and presses against her chest. His hands glide up her back and across her shoulder blades, making her skin tingle.

Sam yelps and draws her bottom lip between her teeth. Tony presses a hand into the back of Sam’s head and draws her back in. Lips, teeth, and tongues collide. Hands tangle in hair and bunch in fabric. Fingers dig into skin, searching desperately for grip.

Sam pushes Tony back, both panting heavily, and swings a leg over his hips. She pulls him back in by the collar, kissing down his neck. She pushes at the fabric, dragging his shirt down his shoulders and exposing his well-defined triceps.

“I missed you.” Her voice is raw. “So much.”

Tony shimmies out of the sleeves and wraps a hand in Sam’s hair, tilting her head back. He skims his lips over her neck and squeezes a hand against her ass.

“You have no idea,” he growls before sinking his teeth into her neck.

Sam’s shriek covers the click of the door opening. She reaches a hand down to cover Tony’s, squeezing tighter, and arches her chest against him. “Do that again. Please.”

“Damn, Stark!”

Sam yelps and Tony tosses her onto the bed, sliding between her and his roommate.

“Dude, don’t you have enough ties to hang one on the door?” he chuckles, taking a seat at his desk.

Sam sits up behind Tony, leaning to the side.

“I didn’t-” Tony holds an arm out, cornering Sam in. “I didn’t think about it. Sorry, Brent.”

Brent nods. “I guess I’d be distracted too if I had a fox like that on top of me.”

“Can you not compliment my girl while she’s half naked?” Tony’s eyes dart to the door.

“Yeah, alright.” Brent raises his hands and stands. “I’ll just, uh, wait in the hall.”

When the door closes, Tony bends down to retrieve Sam’s shirt. She takes it and suppresses a smile before dropping her face into her hands and bursting into laughter.

“You’re on a roll today,” he chuckles.

Sam looks up, red from the collar bone to the tips of her ears. “Tony, earlier- it was-” She takes a deep breath and twists the shirt around her hands. “You know I didn’t mean to...you know, kiss…not you. I was just so excited.”

“Babe.” He taps a finger under her chin. “I know. You’re cute.”

Sam tugs her shirt over her head. “Can we get dinner? I’m starving.”

“Oh, god, of course.” Tony’s face pales. “I’m so sorry. I just came back from the dining hall. I didn’t even think about- What do you want?”

On their way out, Tony apologizes to Brent again. Brent tells Tony about a party on Saturday and agrees to let Sam crash in their room for the weekend.

Sam takes a sharp inhale and stretches the corset around her waist. She pulls the fabric tight, the hooks narrowly missing each other.

Tony looks up from his textbook when he hears an exasperated sigh. “Babe, why are you wearing that?”

Sam scoffs, “Because I don’t have a Barbie doll waist, Tony.”

“No one says you have to.”

She looks at Tony and rolls her eyes. “_Everyone_ says I have to.”

Tony turns in his chair to face Sam. “Well, I don’t.”

“You’re only saying that because you know it won’t fit.” Sam releases another breath and drops onto his bed. “It barely worked before, and now I’m all bloated and fat.”

“What?” He jumps up from his chair and sits beside her. “No, I’m not. I don’t like the way it makes you look.”

She looks up at him with hooded eyes. “What do you mean?”

“It’s unnatural.” He chuckles, “Sam, you literally have the ideal human body. The way that thing nips you in at the waist makes you look like a- an-” He waves his hand.

“An hourglass?” Sam laughs at Tony’s resigned expression. “That’s kind of the point.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” he sighs. “You’re not fat, Sam. You’re strong. And maybe a little bloated.”

She shoves his shoulder, smiling.

“Come on.” He takes her hand and pulls her off the bed. “Get dressed.”

Tony flips open Sam’s suitcase and passes her a minidress. Sam pulls it over her head and takes her neon tights out. She tugs on some tight knee-high boots and turns to Tony who is already dressed.

Tony folds his book closed and clicks off his lamp. Turning to Sam, he brushes the hair out of her face and kisses her forehead. She takes his hand and follows him out the door.

They can hear the party music from down the street as they walk up. Tony squeezes Sam’s hand and glances at her from the corner of his eye. She’s grinning ear to ear. When they reach the steps, Tony pulls her back.

“This isn’t like our high school parties, Sam. They’re going to have every drug you’ve ever heard of and then some you haven’t. These guys, they’ll offer it all to you because you’re gorgeous and they’d do anything to-” His pleading eyes bore into hers. “Just stay close, please.”

Sam’s face softens and she squeezes Tony’s bicep. “Okay.”

“I’m not saying we can’t have fun. I just want you to be careful.”

She nods and continues up the steps and into the house. The overwhelming earthen, sweet smell of marijuana hits her immediately. Tony stays on her heels as she pushes through the crowd and into the kitchen. He pours three shots and mixes two drinks. Passing two shots to Sam, he holds his own glass out.

“To a night I won’t remember, and one you won’t forget.”

Sam tips her head back, swallowing the clear liquid before it can burn too much. She takes her drink from Tony and follows him to the backyard. They take a seat on the bench in the corner, near a birdbath.

Sam sticks her bottom lip out. “I don’t want to remember it either.”

Tony smiles. “Wait here. And keep drinking.” He walks back into the house, glancing once over his shoulder.

Sam sits on the bench, sipping her drink. It’s stronger than she’s used to, and with the two shots already metabolizing into her bloodstream, she can feel a buzz settle in her head. She watches the other partygoers mingle in the backyard. One group dances around the fire pit, moving lazily to a tune played on a guitar, hands and hips brushing constantly. Couples speckle the edges of the yard, hands gliding up each other's bodies, mussing hair, caressing faces. Everything seems to move in slow motion, easing along leisurely.

Her eyes drift over the open backdoor, when a young man walks into her line of vision. He begins talking to her, but Sam continues scanning for Tony. She nods politely along to his rambling, and scoots away when he sits down beside her. She glances at him sideways, and a small sheet of miniature tablets catches her attention.

When he sees her looking, he takes her hand and presses a tab into it. She narrows her eyes and turns it over, listening to him talk about a trip she’d never forget. She rolls her eyes and pushes her open hand toward him.

He plucks the tablet out of her palm and holds it between his teeth with a grin. Just as he crunches down, he’s pulled away by an elbow.

“Get out of here.” Danny watches the stranger leave, replacing him on the bench. “Did you take that?”

“Danny,” Sam grins, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“I really shouldn’t be. I have an interview for a summer internship.” He takes a drink of what smells like straight vodka. “I should be asleep.”

“That’s great. With who?” When Danny chuckles, she adds, “The interview, not sleeping.”

“Just a little medical clinic.” He winks, “And generally, tall and blonde.”

Sam rolls her eyes, “I’ve seen a few of those around.”

“Alright, now answer my question. Did you take anything he gave you?”

“Why?” Sam tosses her hair, scanning the crowd. “Did Tony send you out to chaperone me?”

“No, but that’s not a bad thing around here, Sam.” His stony expression matches hers. “He cuts his LSD with some dangerous shit.”

“I didn’t.” She settles into her seat.

Tony returns with a smile on his face. “Hey, Danny. I thought you weren’t going out tonight.”

“I was just heading out when I saw Sam chatting it up with Loony Toons over there.”

Tony glances in the direction Danny waves, and his face tenses. “Sam, did you-”

“No, jeez!” Sam huffs. “Between the two of you, I’m not going to have any fun.”

“Alright, alright.” Tony nods and passes Sam a handful of joints and a lighter. “Try this.”

She lights one and takes a few puffs.

Tony gently pulls the cigarette from her fingers, snickering. He takes a hit and glances at Danny. Danny shakes his head and nudges Tony’s hand away. Tony takes another puff and passes it back to Sam, sharing a joke about “Loony Tunes” with Danny.

After several minutes, Tony raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”

Sam shakes her head. “It's not fair.”

He stands and holds out his hand. “Come here. I have an idea.” Again, looking to Danny, Tony asks, “You coming?”

Sam stands, and takes Tony’s hand, looking up at Danny through her eyelashes. “I can’t have too many chaperones. Right?”

“Alright.” Danny shakes his head as laughter rumbles through his chest. He jerks his head toward Tony. “But you’re buying.”

Tony slings his arm around Sam and guides her inside. They go through the living room and downstairs. The air thickens as the descend, the smell intensifying with each step. The music is softer, more fluid.

“This way is stronger.” Again, Tony stops at the bottom step and turns to Sam. “If you’re going to get high, you have to promise that you won’t leave my side.”

Sam nods, her eyes darting around the open space in front of her. She tugs at his arm and finds seats in the middle of the floor. She surveys the group gathered around the glass water pipe.

“Try not to look so lost,” Tony chuckles. “Do you know what that is?”

“Of course, I do,” she sneers, watching everyone take turns lighting and inhaling.

“Do you know how to use it?”

Sam’s ears turn pink. “I'm figuring it out.”

“It's alright. I didn't expect you to.” He stands up and lays a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. I'll get some for us. Don’t smoke anything I didn't give you.” He points a finger at Danny, eyes shooting toward Sam.

Sam waits patiently, watching a different circle pass a joint around. Remembering how Tony had shared the joint upstairs, she chuckles. So, there were a few things she didn’t understand about this. She turns back to the group with the bong, studying them so she won't embarrass herself. Various baked goods are passed around the whole room, all of the side groups munching here and there.

Tony returns and pulls Sam and Danny to the side and begins packing ground herbs into the small bowl. “We’re going to use our own, so you don't piss someone off and get me uninvited.”

“It can’t be that hard.” Sam sinks into her shoulders before grinning and sidles up next to Tony as he shows her how to take a hit.

“No, don’t light the whole-” Danny snickers. It’s too late, and he knows it. “This is why we’re alone.”

Sam cracks a smile. “I think this may work.”

Tony packs more marijuana into the bowl and hands her the lighter. It’s not long before Sam is lounging across Tony’s lap with her feet propped in Danny’s. Tony runs his fingers through her hair, scratching gently at her scalp and combs out to the ends.

“Your hair is so pretty. The little tints of orange and blonde.”

Sam hums and reaches up to rub the stubble along Tony’s jaw. “I like this song.”

“You speak sign language, right?” Danny takes a brownie from the plate beside him, tapping Sam’s foot.

“No one _speaks _sign language, ding-bat.” She lets her eyes flutter shut.

“What the fuck ever.” Danny slouches to the ground and lays out beside her, staring at the ceiling. “When we yawn, do deaf people think we’re screaming?” He polishes off the brownie and sets the plate of desserts on his chest.

“Dude,” Tony’s hands freeze, and he looks down at Sam, “how would they know?”

“Maybe they don’t.” Sam shrugs and steals one of Danny’s brownies.

The sounds in the room blend together, creating a peaceful background thrum. Sam only opens her eyes once to look up at Tony, immediately pulling him down for a kiss. It lasts longer than usual, both of them pulling the other in tighter. Somehow calm and relaxed, but at the same time more intense than any kiss before.

And it’s over. Sam lays back down across Tony’s legs. He combs through her hair again, examining the color of every strand. Time seems to ebb and flow with the activity around them. None of them aware of how much time has passed since arriving.

Sam sits up slowly. “Can we get a snack?”

Tony drops her hair and nods, helping her climb to her feet. They make their way up the stairs and into the kitchen. Sam grabs a bag of chips off the counter, and Tony takes a half empty box of pizza. Danny takes the opportunity to leave early. Sam continues around the corner, Tony in tow, looking for somewhere away from the crowd.

She pushes a door open and walks into a bathroom. Tony snickers, and Sam sits on the floor with a shrug. Tony drops to the ground across from her and lays the pizza between them. She takes a slice from the box and slides it out of the way. Grabbing the bag of chips, she moves over to sit across Tony’s lap.

They sit quietly, munching away. Sam runs her fingers through Tony’s hair. He wraps his free hand around her waist to keep her pressed against him. When she finishes her third slice, Sam rests her head against Tony’s shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

She drags her teeth lightly across his neck, relishing the feel of his hand pressing against her hip. Even the slightest touch makes her skin tingle. She pulls herself up to her knees and leans against Tony’s shoulders.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” she says, rubbing a thumb across his cheekbone.

His eyes flutter closed. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

She rests her forehead against his. “You could show me.”

He gives her a lopsided grin, running his hands lazily up her sides. When his hands cup her face, he pulls her into a kiss, tasting the char on her tongue. Sam leans in, moaning softly. She lets her eyes fall closed and tugs at Tony’s hair. She can feel his chest, strong against hers, with every breath. Tony’s hands on her hips hold her against him.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm, sensing each move before it’s made. Sam arches into his chest, and Tony’s firm grip wraps around her, holding her against him. Tony adjusts to kiss her neck, and Sam urges him closer with a gentle touch.

He tugs Sam’s dress over her head and breathes “I love you” across her collarbone.

Sam gasps, digging her nails into the fabric covering Tony’s shoulder blades. “I want this off,” she whines, “now.”

With a smirk, he pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons. He stuffs his hand in a pocket and opens it to reveal several small, colorful tablets.

“I got something for when you come down.”

“Rogers!” Tony stalks out of the communal showers with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You are so dead.”

“You still have paint on your face.” Sam snickers, scampering backward down the hallway to keep an eye on his advance.

She has his shirt buttoned up to show her fluorescent-paint-speckled cleavage, and it’s barely long enough to cover the bottoms of her butt cheeks. Her red underwear shows through the split in the front with every step. Her back is soaked from her dripping hair.

“Sam, give me my trousers back.”

“Not a chance.” Sam grins, turning the corner to Tony’s hall. “You’ll have to work for-” Her eyes go wide and she bites at her lip. “Well, I’m straight now.”

Sam shoves a bundle of fabric into Tony’s chest as he enters the new hall.

“Yep.” Tony gulps. “Me too.”

“Hi, Dad.” She pushes Tony back around the corner and presses a thumb into her palm. “Wha- what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, don’t start with me.” Steve uncrosses his arms and straightens his back. “You were explicitly told not to be here.”

Sam glances at Tony, who gives her the finger before buttoning his pants. “I, uh- See, I thought when you said that- that-” She chews on her cheek and shifts her weight between feet.

“Save it.” Steve clenches and unclenches his fists. “You’re already in so much trouble, Sam, your children are grounded.”

“Come on, Dad,” she giggles, sauntering forward. “We were just having fun. I’m fine. Tony’s fine. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Sam can hear Tony choke behind her. “What the f-” Re-upping was a terrible idea.

Steve’s face turns red, and his chest heaves. “Samantha. Michelle. Get your ass in the car.”

Tony, caught between highs, watches in horror.

“Look how happy I am, Daddy.” She beams up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“Oh, that’s it.”

As Tony creeps up the hall, Steve sweeps Sam off the ground and tosses her over his shoulder.

Sam curls herself around Steve’s side, pressing in as close as she can get. “I love you, Daddy. You take such good care of me.” The words rush out.

He strides toward Tony, reaching out. “Towel.”

Tony holds it out silently.

Steve snatches it from Tony and drapes it over Sam’s legs. She squirms and kicks. Steve pins her legs to his chest and turns away.

“I’m pissed with you, too, Stark.”

“Yep,” Tony answers. “Saw that coming.”

“Your shirt is so soft.” Sam spreads her hands across Steve’s back and begins brushing her fingers across her own face. “My skin is soft, but your shirt is definitely softer.”

Ignoring her, Steve chuckles, “Gave your roommate a good scare, too.”

Sam twists and wriggles, trying to slide out of Steve’s grip. “I want to walk.” She rubs Steve’s shirt between her fingers, rotating her jaw. “Did you know there’s little blue stripes in this shirt?”

Tony jogs behind Steve, stooping to put his face next to Sam’s. “Shut up, Sam. You’re going to get me killed.” It’s hitting her faster than the first dose.

She cranes her neck to look at him. “You’re so handsome with your sandy hair and straight white teeth.” She bites her lip. “Will you bite me?”

Steve’s arm tightens around Sam’s waist.

“No, I want to bite you.” Sam clicks her teeth together, smiling. She drops her head and clicks her teeth several more times.

“Tony, leave.” Steve readjusts Sam, jostling her and eliciting a squeal. “If I have to listen to drunk ramblings, I don’t want them to be about you.”

Tony stops in his tracks. Steve hasn’t figured it out yet. “Yes, Mr. Rogers,” he responds in feigned despondency. It’s probably best to get back to his room before his second dose hits. He can already feel the buzz under his skin.

Sam waves as he backs away. “I love you.” His smile makes her head spin.

She returns to examining Steve’s clothing. Squirming and shifting rhythmically. She takes several deep breaths, making her smile. “You smell so good.”

She goes still and takes several more breaths. “Have you been using Mom’s shampoo? I bet your hair’s so soft.” She twists at an unnatural angle to run her fingers through his hair.

He turns his head, shaking her off with a grumble, and opens the front door.

“Daddy, stop. It feels so nice.” She grins and swings her legs.

Humming quietly, she’s deeply aware of the tingle on her lips. She scans Steve’s shirt again. She drags her hands down his neck and over his shoulders. She chews on her cheek for a moment before biting the back of Steve’s shoulder.

He groans and drops her onto her feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Not so loud.” Sam looks at the ground, twirling her hair and biting her lip. She wiggles her toes, feeling her muscles relax as the cool from the concrete spreads through her.

Acutely aware of her rising body temperature, she lays on the ground and presses every inch of exposed skin against the concrete. She releases a breath in a sigh of contentment. Sweat beads in her hairline, and she lets it drip down her face. She lies motionless except for the clenching of her jaw and fists.

“Sam?” Steve’s agitated voice breaks through.

Eyes fluttering open, she looks up at Steve. “How did I get so lucky?”

When she stands, Steve takes her by the chin and tilts her head up. His eyes narrow as he bends down to look at hers. Pupils so wide, even Steve can hardly discern the blue irises.

“Are you high?”

“Whatever I am, I feel great.”

“Get in the goddamn car.”

“Do you have any water?”

For Steve, the ride back to SHIELD is unbearably long. Sam doesn’t stop moving the entire time. She constantly rubs the seat or her arms or the upholstery. She hums quietly to every song on the radio. She drinks enough water, commenting on the fantastic taste, to have to stop at a gas station.

Not even Steve’s stream of expletives, some of which Sam had never heard before, could dampen Sam’s mood.

When Steve drags Sam, now wearing the sweatpants from his gym bag, up the stairs and into the Director’s office, Peggy doesn’t even blink.

“Tell her what you’re on.”

Sam sways slowly, rubbing her arms. “Adam.”

Peggy raises her eyebrows, looking Sam over. “How many did you take?”

“Fucking ecstasy.” Steve drops onto the couch. “The same shit the CIA has been experimenting with.”

Peggy bristles and continues. “Sam, how many?”

“I don’t remember.” Sam shrugs. “Three or four.”

“Well,” Peggy takes a deep breath, “I suppose if it was going to kill you, it would have already.”

Steve stares at Peggy with a blank expression.

“Take her home. Give her water. Keep an eye on her temperature.” Peggy looks at Steve. “She’ll be coming down soon enough.”

“That’s all?” Steve huffs.

“What would you have me do, darling? She’s in no shape for a lecture.”

Steve agrees reluctantly and takes Sam home. After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, Sam can’t lay in bed anymore. She takes a few laps around the house and settles on the couch.

Peggy comes home to find Sam wrapped in a blanket, zoned out in front of the TV. She drops down beside Sam with a chuckle.

“Can’t sleep?”

Sam shakes her head and picks up her water glass.

“That’s common with MDMA. Headache? Sore muscles? Dry mouth?”

Sam continues nodding.

Peggy leans back with a sigh and holds out her hand. “This should help with the hangover.”

Sam glances down. She picks up the small vial in Peggy’s hand, her fingertips tingling from the touch. She turns it over and studies it.

“I’d rather not.” Sam drops it back into Peggy’s hand.

Peggy chuckles. “It’s safe, love. Dr. Wexler has been working on it for quite some time.”

“What if,” Sam closes her eyes, “what if I did more?”

Peggy rubs her eyes. “Like what?”

“Just- I… smoked some-”

“Reefer?” A hint of amusement at Sam’s self-conscious apprehension dances in Peggy’s eyes.

“Mom, no one calls it that anymore.” Sam rolls her eyes, bunching the blanket up in her lap.

Peggy waves off the comment. “I suppose it’s best not to risk it.” She tucks the vial into her purse.

“Mom,” Sam narrows her eyes and speaks slowly, “why is your research division working on drug hangover cures?”

Peggy takes a slow breath. “The CIA isn’t testing ecstasy. But someone is. And I can’t tell you anything more.”

“Why?” Sam leans back as Peggy turns to face her.

“That’s complicated.” Peggy rests an elbow on the back of the couch to prop her head up. “On one hand, it could improve agents’ abilities in the field. Heighten senses, lower rest time, increase strength.”

“And the other?”

“Well,” her eyes wander the room, “they could prove to be formidable weapons. If formulated properly, they would drive even your father mad. Do you think you could have planned a successful mission in the state you were in?”

Sam shakes her head with a smirk, before her face turns dark. “Who volunteers to test the crazy pills?” When Peggy remains silent, Sam presses again. “Mom?”

“Well, you, love.” Peggy lets out a breath. “Not specifically, of course. How do you think college students get their hands on _recreational _drugs?”

“Mom, you’re not-” Sam swallows hard. “They don’t even know. How could you authorize that?”

“I must be losing my edge. I’ve already shared entirely too much.” She cracks a smile, but Sam stays icy. Peggy squares her shoulders. “I don’t have the luxury of black and white thinking. The world I operate in is very much grey.” Peggy’s demeanor grows heated. “My international counterparts won’t hesitate to use these drugs against us when they uncover them, and they_ will_ uncover them. I am responsible for hundreds of agents who are responsible for securing the world against threats it’s not even prepared to comprehend. I cannot jeopardize that over a few qualms of ethicality.”

Sam remains silent, locked in Peggy’s fierce gaze. She glances up the hall and back to Peggy. “Does Dad know?”

Peggy softens. “Love, I can count on one hand the number of things I hide from your father. Including birthday and Christmas gifts.” She cracks a smile before turning serious and meeting Sam’s eyes. “This is a decision I can’t ask him to support.”

“He would lose his mind.” Sam nods. “What if he finds out?”

“He made many compromises during the war, love. Some, I know he wishes he hadn’t. I won’t ask him to do that again.” Peggy’s eyes close softly, and she licks her lips. “I hope he would understand my situation.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Peggy takes a ragged breath before opening her eyes. “This isn’t a matter you should worry yourself over.”

Sam smiles, “Are you sure? I’m feeling pretty insightful right now.”

“Maybe when your pupils return to normal.” She takes Sam’s face in her hands and looks her over. “How do you feel?”

“Honestly, Mom, I don’t feel much of anything right now.” She shrugs away the hum in her skin from Peggy’s hands.

“Good. You’re coming down.” Peggy stands up and turns off the television. She sits back down and takes Sam’s hand. “Love, we need to have a talk.”

Sam pulls back, rolling her eyes. “We don’t, Mom. Drugs are bad. Dangerous. Especially with my metabolism. I know.”

“I sincerely hope you don’t.” Peggy slides closer to Sam and brushes hair out of her face. Warmth radiates out from the touch. “I don’t like you being at these kinds of parties. They’re dangerous.”

“Mom, I-”

“But it would be foolish to try and stop you from going. You’re young. I understand.”

The softness in Peggy’s voice draws every ounce of Sam’s attention.

“If you’re going to be in this crowd, be careful what you take. And promise me, you will always keep Tony with you.”

“Mom,” Sam meets Peggy’s hazy eyes, “what is this about?”

“I know you’re strong, love. And you think you can handle anything. But please don’t put yourself in a situation you can’t get out of.” Tears gather in the corners of Peggy’s empty eyes. “It is _the_ worst place to be.”

Peggy’s stare goes distant. “I’ve worked with many men in my career, and they’re not all as noble as Captain America.” Her voice is flat. “I didn’t always spar with super-soldiers, you know. I was a codebreaker at Bletchely. That’s where the women of the war worked. You see, it may have been everybody’s war, but it was a man’s fight.”

“But when Michael-” She goes quiet. “I was one of the first in a project that sent women to the field with MI-5. I was often the only one on the whole base. I received no combat training, not even a self-defense class. I wasn’t a soldier. I was an intelligence agent. I taught myself everything I know. I-” Peggy closes her eyes slowly, eyelashes glistening. “I had good motivation to become the best.”

The hand on her shoulder jolts Peggy out of her trance. She pulls away with a sharp inhale, blinking back tears. “Please don’t.”

“Mom,” Sam hardly hears her own voice.

“Yes, well, it was a different time.” Peggy shrugs heavily. “It wasn’t terribly uncommon.”

Sam can’t move. She can barely breathe.

Finally, she smiles weakly. “You’ve blazed a lot of trails, hm?”

Peggy chuckles, “If I’d known I’d have someone following me, I would have made the path much wider.” She looks at Sam softly, brushing her thumb over Sam’s cheek. “I wish I could have done better, for you, love.”

“Mom.” Sam’s tone is almost scolding.

“Love,” Peggy looks at Sam’s hand in her own, “I said there’s not much I keep from Dad.”

“He doesn’t know.” Sam’s shoulders drop.

“It was years before I ever met him. There’s nothing he could have done.” Peggy shakes her head. “It would only upset him.”

Painfully aware of the absence of sensation across her skin, Sam reaches out cautiously. She pulls her hand back and takes a breath. “I’d really like a hug.”

A subdued smile crosses Peggy’s face and she opens her arms. “Come here, love.”

Peggy wraps her arms around Sam. She leans back and props her feet on the coffee table, pulling Sam into her side. Sam draws her blanket up to her chin and nestles in closer, feeling Peggy’s body heat seep through her clothing. Peggy combs through Sam’s hair with one hand and brushes her other thumb across the back of Sam’s hand.

“Did you ever test this stuff firsthand?” Sam hums gently, warmth spreading everywhere Peggy touches.

“I’d never submit someone else to a risk I wouldn’t take.”

Sam snickers. “Dad didn’t notice?”

“He was occupied with,” Peggy grins, “other things.”

“Weren’t you at work?”

Peggy’s grin widens.

“Anyway,” Sam groans, “you know how good this feels?”

“Quite well.” She tugs a strand of hair. “Did you at least get to enjoy it before Dad got there?”

“Mom!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not supposed to know about you and Tony?”

“I don’t want to talk about it with my mom.”

“Only Dad, then.” Peggy smirks.

Heat flashes up Sam’s neck and into her cheeks. She lets out a nervous laugh. “I don’t even remember everything I said.”

“Oh, but he does, my love.”

Sam covers her face. “I bit his neck.”

Peggy raises her eyebrows. “That’s typically my job.”

“Mom, please don’t make it weird.”

“I’m making it weird?” Peggy scoffs. “You’re the one who couldn’t stop massaging your father’s muscles and asking for ‘his secret.’”

“Oh, god.” Sam pulls the blanket over her head, whining.

“Saying how much you love us.” Peggy smiles, pinching Sam’s shoulder gently. “And my shampoo. And Dad’s car. And the way Tony-”

“I know what I said.” Sam throws the blanket off. “And I don’t want to talk about it with you.”

“Oh, come now. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Sam smiles sheepishly. “I do really like it.”

“I bet you do,” Peggy giggles.

“Mom!”

“What?” Peggy snickers. “When Dad relayed your conversation, it sounded quite…enjoyable.”

“Gross.” Sam sits up, pulling away. “Well, I’ll never enjoy that again.”

“You were much more fun high.” Peggy presses a kiss against Sam’s temple before standing up. “Can you handle yourself for the rest of the night?”

Sam smiles and nods, standing to turn the TV back on.

“Good night, love.”

“You’ve done a great job, Mom.”

Sam watches Peggy disappear down the hall and settles into the couch. She closes her eyes and listens to the soft drone of the news. Every muscle in her body is exhausted. Her eyes burn. Her brain is foggy.

And yet, she’s awake. It’s going to be a long night.

* * *

Sam pulls Tony into her room and closes the window delicately. Sam turns around as Tony begins to speak. She claps her hand over his mouth, eyes boring through him.

She takes a step back, signing. _What the hell is wrong with you!_

_This is ridiculous. _Tony rolls his eyes. _You’re almost eighteen. They can’t keep controlling you._

_They don’t. _Sam takes a step back.

_Bullshit._

_You’re here, aren’t you?_

_Yeah, signing. Because you’re afraid._

_You know you’re not supposed to be here. After last weekend, you should be scared of getting caught too._

Tony smiles, holding back a laugh. _What did they do to you?_

_Besides grounding me forever?_ Sam smirks, and as quickly as it appeared, it fades away. _Nothing. That’s why I’m worried._

Tony’s smile fades before he sets his shoulders. _Well, not even Captain America can scare me away from you._

Sam shoves his shoulder, smiling. _Lame._

_Ouch_. He follows Sam to the bed and reclines beside her.

Sam leans against his chest, wrapping her legs around his. He combs absently through her hair, pressing an occasional kiss into the top of her head. She pulls him in tighter, tucking her hand under his shirt. She brushes her fingers up his faintly chiseled stomach and across his firm, smooth chest.

His body type is obviously intellectual; there's no doubt about where his scholarship would come from. If he needed one, that is. But he's still strong. Even if she didn't know him, it's apparent that he goes to the gym. She smiles, allowing herself to believe that's for her. Still, without the suit he won’t be tackling anyone much bigger than he is.

Pressure on her chin draws Sam’s attention back to Tony. She looks up and knows immediately what he's thinking. She reaches a hand to his face and pulls him down to meet her. She smiles against his lips. Always so soft and warm. Inviting. She can't help herself from dragging him back when he pulls away.

He kisses her deeply. Again, as if it's the easiest thing in the world, he pulls away.

_What's wrong? _Sam’s eyes fill with concern. He never turns down a kiss unless he's angry.

He smiles. _Don’t want to wake your dad. I’d hate to prove you right. _

Sam smacks his chest and climbs on top of his lap. She leans in, her face so close to his ear, her breath sends chills across his skin. “Then just be quiet.”

Tony's fingers dig into her hips before pulling at her hair. After a long, sloppy kiss, he turns her head, dragging his teeth up her jaw. “How quiet can you be?”

“Not _that_ quiet.”

A chuckle erupts from deep in Tony's chest. Sam slams her mouth against his to dampen the sound. The surprise attack renders Tony silent, kissing back passionately.

He pushes her away. Too breathless to speak, he signs, _If you want to take that off the table, you're going to have to get off of me._

She grins, slinking to the side. _But we can still make out? Right? _

_Do you even know me? _He wraps a hand around her waist, the other cradling her head. He kisses a trail from her ear to her lips. “Still want me to bite you?”

Sam’s eyes spark as she runs her tongue across her teeth. “That’s always on the table.”

He nuzzles into the skin behind her ear and whispers, “I. Love. You,” punctuating each word with a kiss down her neck.

Sam closes her eyes, focused on containing the moan in her throat. His warm breath moving down her neck makes her task more challenging. His fingertips grazing over her hip makes her squirm. The gentle tug of his lips against the crook of her neck forces out a gasp. The pressure of his teeth digging into her skin pushes her over the edge.

She lets out a faint, though definitely audible moan. Sam reaches up to cover her mouth, but Tony beats her to it. They sit silently, eyes locked, listening for movement. Sam flinches at the creak of her parents’ bed; she knows Tony can’t hear it. She waits for the footsteps to follow. The creak of the floor. The click of a doorknob. But nothing comes.

She collapses against Tony with a sigh of relief. He holds her, smiling into her hair.

When she sits back, he signs with a smirk, _Now I have to start over._

Sam wakes up to the sound of a door closing. She curls into the warm body beside her, hands running up the bare torso. Tony’s body heat bleeds into her bare skin. She rolls on top of him, his arm wrapping around her waist.

A door opens, violently. Sam groans, rubbing her legs against Tony’s. She turns her head away from the light filtering through the window.

“Oh, shit.” Sam rolls over, sitting up. She smacks Tony’s chest and shoves his arm. “You got to get up. You have to go, now!”

Tony pushes Sam’s hand away and turns over. “Later, baby. It’s too early.”

Footsteps storm down the hall, fast and loud.

“No, love.” Sam pushes him again. “You got to go now.”

She throws the covers back, revealing their scantily clad forms. Tony in only his boxers, and Sam wearing her bra and pajama pants. “Oh, shit.”

Before Tony can catch the shirt she throws at him, Sam’s door flies open. The handle crushes into the drywall behind it. Why hadn’t they locked that? Not that it would’ve made a difference.

Steve bursts through the doorway, wearing sweatpants and a jacket. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he roars.

“Dad, it’s not-” Sam sounds like a mouse next to Steve’s heated voice.

“Get out before I throw you out,” Steve growls through clenched teeth. “And that’s not a figure of speech.”

Tony scrambles to pull his jeans up as Steve glares ominously.

Tony barely has the button done when Steve stalks toward him. “Time’s up.”

Tony darts to the side, trying to squeeze by. Steve’s hand closes around Tony’s arm with so much force, Tony nearly falls to the ground. Sam grabs the rest of Tony’s clothes and hurries after them. Tony clambers to keep his feet under him as Steve drags him to the front door. Steve slings Tony out the front door with ease, forcing him to hop over all three front steps to avoid a crash landing.

“Do not come back here.” Steve slams the door and turns around, his shoulder bumping Sam back a step. He glances down at the bundle of clothes in Sam’s arms and snatches it from her. He opens the door and tosses the clothes across the front yard.

“Dad.” Sam stumbles backward into the kitchen. “Daddy, we didn’t even-”

Steve turns back, fire in his eyes. “Put some goddamn clothes on.”

Sam looks down at the faint purple marks dipping under her bra and trailing down her stomach. “Fuck,” she whispers under her breath.

“_Didn’t even,_ my ass.” Steve fumes across the living room.

Sam stops in the hallway, watching Steve open the front door. She lets out a breath when she can’t see Tony on the lawn. “Where are you going?”

“Where I _was _going when I saw Tony’s bike in the drive.”

“I thought you wanted to talk.” Sam twists a strand of hair around her finger.

“Sam,” Steve strains to keep his voice level, “if I don’t go for a run, I’ll end up in prison.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t go anywhere until I get back.” His shoulders drop slightly, though he remains rigid, and the hostility drains out of his voice.

When the door shuts, Sam places several spoons in the freezer and gets in the shower. After drying off, she wraps her hair in a towel and slips into her robe. Bringing a hand mirror with her, she walks back to the kitchen. She takes a spoon from the freezer and presses it against the darkest mark.

After several seconds, she trades the spoon in her hand for one in the freezer, pressing it against another spot. She continues the process until all the bruises are noticeably lighter. A trick she’d inadvertently learned from Peggy two years ago. Sam had been trying to sneak out when she ran into Peggy in the kitchen.

_“I can’t go to work like this.” Peggy moved her hands to display several small bruises on her neck. “Do you know what they would say?”_

_Sam giggled, “Way to go, Cap?”_

She checks the microwave clock and groans. He took the long route. He’s mad.

After getting dressed, she makes herself a bowl of oatmeal and turns on the radio. She takes her bowl and settles on the couch with her sketchbook. Humming along to “Hey Jude,” she fleshes out the structure of the scene she started yesterday. Cubes here, cylinders there. Before long, a lonely cabin begins to take shape in what would become a snow-covered forest.

Steve had been gone for nearly two hours when she hears footsteps on the porch. He spends another twenty minutes stretching before opening the front door.

Sam looks at Steve’s sweat soaked t-shirt; his jacket now tied around his waist. “Feel better?”

Steve glances at the dirty bowl on the coffee and shoots Sam a deadly glare. “Clean up your mess.”

She shrugs and looks back to her drawing. “In a minute. I’m almost done with the second layer.”

“No, now.” Steve stands in front of the TV, watching her.

Sam looks up slowly and groans as she stands. She snatches the bowl and brings it into the kitchen dropping it into the sink with a clatter.

Steve takes a long breath before entering the dining room. He fills a glass with water, loads the toaster with bread and scrambles half a dozen eggs. As Steve pours the eggs into the sizzling pan, he catches Sam edging out of the kitchen.

“Sit.” He doesn’t look up.

Sam huffs out a breath and turns to get a glass of juice before taking a seat at the table. She studies the graining in the tabletop, tracing her fingers along the grooves. She notices a chip in the finish, and her mind flashes back to one night last week when Sam walked out to find Peggy sitting on the table wrapped around Steve like a vine. She jerks her hand back quickly, making a face.

When Steve sets his plate down across from Sam, his face is still red, fresh sweat glistening across his brow. He calmly takes a bite of toast, followed by a gulp of water. Eggs, then water. Back to toast.

Sam narrows her eyes, scrutinizing his expression for a hint. She leans back and takes a deep breath. “Dad, I know you don’t believe me, but we really didn’t sleep together.”

He raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side.

“I mean, clearly we slept together.” She shakes her head. “But we didn’t _sleep together._”

He turns a bite over in his mouth, mulling over her claim. He takes another bite before addressing her.

“That’s not why I’m angry.” He watches the wheels turn behind her eyes. “Sam, you’re grounded. I told you Tony couldn’t come over.”

“Dad, he drove all the way up to see me.”

“I don’t care.” He takes another bite. “You should have done your homework.”

“That’s not fair. Between his classes and the fraternity, he doesn’t get many free weekends.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” He sets his fork down. “You chose not to do those assignments. You were supposed to spend last weekend catching up. That was your second chance.”

She huffs, breaking eye contact. “So, what now?”

“That’s the question,” Steve snorts.

He takes another bite of toast and drink of water. He finishes his breakfast slowly, quietly. After polishing off the rest of the eggs, he stands and carries his dishes to the sink. Watching Sam from the corner of his eye, he rinses his plate and places it in the dishwasher. He dries his hands and leans against the counter, working his jaw.

“Go get a belt.”

Sam chokes on her mouthful of juice. “What?”

“You heard me,” he answers calmly.

She leans back in her chair and scoffs, “You’re not going to spank me.”

“No,” he doesn’t waver, “I’m going to whoop your ass.”

“This is a joke, right.” She cracks a smile. “You haven’t spanked me in at least twelve years.”

“Clearly that was a mistake.” He shifts his weight and crosses his arms. “That’s my fault, and I’m willing to admit it. Now. Bring me a belt.”

“I’m almost eighteen. You can’t be serious.”

“Michelle, if I have to go get one, you will be tremendously sorry.”

Before she can think, she’s on her feet with a “yes, sir.” It must be the middle name. It’s the only explanation for the reluctant obedience she can’t seem to fight.

“Sam, come set the table,” Steve calls before glancing at the opening door. “Hey, beautiful. How was your flight?”

Peggy drags her suitcase through the front door, hobbling with the boot on her ankle. “I hate snowstorms.”

“Yeah, I remember Russia.” Steve sets a casserole on the table before greeting her with a kiss. “You’re just in time for dinner.”

“How was the fundraiser? I’ve heard Seattle is lovely this time of year.” Sam emerges from the hall.

“Would you keep it down?” Peggy removes her sunglasses to rub her temples.

Steve looks her over. “Are you hungover?”

“I spent the night in an airport. What did you expect?” She carefully replaces her sunglasses and turns to the hall.

Sam chuckles, “At least there were no stairs.”

Peggy rolls her luggage to the bedroom and dumps the contents into the dry-cleaning pile. By the time she returns to the dining room, Steve and Sam have already taken their seats. She drops into the chair across from Sam and waves for them to start eating. Taking the bottle of aspirin next to her plate, she shakes a few pills into her hand. She chases them down with a gulp of water and takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” she gives them a pained smile, “how was your day, love?”

Sam looks down at her plate, pushing bites around with her fork. Her face turns red as she mumbles, “Dad spanked me.”

Even past the sunglasses, Sam can see Peggy raise her eyebrows. “I’m sorry. I must still be drunk.”

Steve glares at Sam. “I had to drag Tony out of her bed this morning.”

“Steve, she’s seventeen.”

Sam gives a curt nod. “That’s what I said.”

“You. Shut it.” Steve points at Sam and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nothing else worked, Peg. I’m open to suggestions.”

Peggy nods slowly. “You ought to kick Tony’s arse while you’re at it, then.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” Steve grins.

* * *

Sam drops to the ground as a shockwave shakes the building. Markham hits the floor beside her. They brace for another explosion. When it doesn’t come, Sam climbs to her feet and her hand shoots to her ear.

“Dad?” He should have called for a check-in by now. “Give me a headcount.”

Sam hears a shout over Blackwell’s report of his and Hughes’s wellbeing. She runs to the edge of the floor, where the wall has not yet been built. She looks up to see Bucky dangling from a piece of scaffolding, which creaks before it snaps under his weight.

She slings her arm around a support beam and leans over the edge, throwing her free arm out. Her hand closes around a thick, metal wrist, and she’s jerked to the ground by the force. Her chest hits the concrete, knocking the air from her lungs, and she screams when her shoulder pops. She scrambles to get her footing before being pulled out of the building. Her arm shakes with the strain.

Sam reaches her other hand down, grabbing Bucky’s elbow. She throws her weight back, hauling Bucky inside. With a final heave, Sam throws herself backward and Bucky claws his way to solid ground. She collapses next him, panting.

“You. Are one. Lucky. Bastard.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “The universe owed me one.”

“Sam!” Sam and Bucky wince as Steve’s voice roars over their earpieces. “Buck? Status update, n-”

“I got them, Cap.” Markham’s footsteps approach from behind. “Laughing. So, I guess they’re both alive.”

“Thanks for the help, Mark.” Sam holds up a thumbs up.

“You’re oh for two, Steve.” Bucky answers over the radio.

“And yet,” Steve’s voice is hoarse. “I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

“You’re in luck, then,” Bucky groans. “I think I’m going to take some time off.”

Sam stumbles to her feet, still holding her arm above her head. She clutches her shoulder, the hand of her injured arm hanging behind her head as if she were stretching.

Bucky rolls onto his hands and knees, dry heaving. He stands on unsteady legs and groans, “I hate this job.”

Sam leans back against a wall and slides to the ground, still cradling her shoulder. Her other hand pulls at her hair. “Fuck.”

Markham nudges Bucky. “You may want to give her a look.”

Bucky turns his head slowly. “What’d you do to yourself this time?” Bucky crosses the room and squats in front of Sam.

“Saved your heavy ass.” She smirks, face scrunched in pain. “I think you broke it.”

“Nah.” He motions Markham over with a jerk of his head. “Just dislocated.”

“Lucky me.”

Bucky moves behind Sam and takes her dislocated arm, glancing at Markham. “Just hold her still.” He pulls up on her arm, rotating slowly until the shoulder slides back into place. “Someone needs to look at that when we get back, make sure nothing’s torn. Try not to move it until then.”

The drive back to headquarters is slow and uneventful. Peggy meets the team in the SHIELD garage. “I heard there was a complication?”

“I fell off a building.” Bucky shrugs.

“Don’t worry.” Sam glares at Steve. “_I _caught him.”

“You’re both pricks,” Steve mumbles, pushing past them.

Sam and Bucky snicker to themselves.

Peggy turns, keeping up with Steve. “Did you just call my daughter a prick?”

“Do you know how many jokes I heard on the ride back?”

Sam and Bucky trail several feet behind. She leans over and whispers. “You know me catching you was pure luck, right?”

Bucky nods. “No way in hell we’re telling him that.”

“Fine by me.” Sam opens her stride and makes her way to the front of the group.

Bucky flanks up the other side.

“Hey, Uncle Bucky,” Sam asks innocently, “how much did you weigh in ‘45?”

“I don’t know, kid.” He mulls it over. “One-fifty, maybe.”

“Hm.” Sam nods. “So, a super-soldier could’ve lifted you pretty easily.”

“Oh, yeah. No doubt.”

Steve locks his jaw and clenches his fists.

Sam glances at him before turning back to Bucky. “How much do you weigh now?”

“Well, the new arm alone is probably forty pounds. So, about-”

“That’s it, Barnes.” Steve lunges at Bucky, grabbing his collar and shoving him against the wall.

“You think-” Bucky grunts and claws at Steve’s arm, wrapping his leg around Steve’s, “just because you outgrew me, you can beat me, punk?”

Steve falls to the ground, dragging Bucky with him. Sam and Peggy continue walking inside, dull thuds echoing behind. The rest of the team stops to watch, placing bets on the winner.

“Is Dad really upset about it?” Sam asks.

Peggy shakes her head. “He just gets anxious when you don’t answer his call for a status update.”

“I wasn’t ignoring him, I just-”

“I know, love.” The glass doors open with a whoosh as they approach. Peggy leads Sam to the side and turns to face her. “You have no idea what you mean to us. Every thread of my being screams to follow you through every mission and make sure you’re alright.”

“Mom, I can handle it.” Sam replies. “I was trained by the best.”

Peggy cracks a smile. “One day, you’ll understand.”

Sam follows Peggy to Steve’s office on the perimeter of the bullpen. Sam takes a seat behind the desk and begins writing up her mission report. The moment she closes the door, Peggy’s shoulders fall. She drops into a chair in front of Steve’s desk and props her feet on the corner. She slumps down in the chair, leaning back with a groan. Sam can tell by the way Peggy rubs her eyes that she hasn’t slept since they left yesterday morning. She may not even have gone home.

With her skirt slipping to reveal skin well above the top of her stockings, scars peeking out from the drooping neckline of her blouse, and grey hairs frizzing out from where she pinned them under her deep chocolate roots, she looks nothing like the head of a federal agency should. But this doesn’t bother Sam, it’s the side of Peggy she’s always seen. Exhausted beyond measure, but somehow still put together. Standing tall, despite the weight of the world on her shoulders. Sneaking a nap wherever she can before duty calls her back to work. Masking the dark circles under her eyes with makeup. Pretending not to notice the deepening lines at the corners of her eyes. Hiding what grey hairs she could; coloring those she couldn’t.

Sam would never forgive Howard for suggesting that. He had designed a do-it-yourself hair color formula for Maria, so no one would know that the beautiful strawberry blonde was actually raven-haired. Being the only female Director of anything, Peggy had to look impeccable. Show no weakness. When Philips agreed, it was all the encouragement Peggy needed. Even Steve had to concede that they were right. No more signs of tiring. Aging had to go, too. She became immortal.

And it takes a toll.

When the door handle rattles, Peggy’s on her feet with her arms crossed before the door opens.

“Oh, Steve,” she sighs, sinking back into her chair when the door is shut.

His cheek is swollen, and his lip split open. His knuckles are bloody and cracked. He wipes blood from his eyebrow and rotates a shoulder slowly. It’s impossible to tell which injuries came from the fight and which from the explosion. It’s also impossible to discern who won the fight.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispers, moving around behind Peggy. He carefully pulls pins from her hair and runs his fingers across her scalp. “How was your day?”

Her eyes close lazily as she moans out a response. “Dugan’s unit has intercepted some troubling reports. I want your team to fly to Los Angeles next month to assist.”

Steve nods and combs his fingers through Peggy’s hair, making sure not to disturb the bouffant she surely spent all morning perfecting. “What kind of reports?”

“A meeting between some high-profile KGB operatives.”

His hands move down her neck to massage her shoulders. “In L.A.?”

“We’ve known the identity of a sleeper agent in the area for quite some time.” Peggy rolls her head from side to side saying she needs to get back to work but making no effort to stand.

Steve presses a kiss to her temple, and she leans into his lips, letting blood smudge in her hairline. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all.” Peggy shakes her head and rubs both hands across her face. “Steve, I’m so tired.”

Sam has never seen Peggy’s weariness written so plainly in her expression.

“Those files from the safe house will be the death of me.”

Steve kneels in front of Peggy, taking her hands with a grin. “Well, you’re only human.”

Peggy pushes his shoulder weakly. “Arse.”

He kisses her forehead before standing up and tugging on her hands. “Come on. Get up.”

“Dad,” Sam begins to protest when Peggy stands.

Steve glances at Sam. “That’s my chair.” Steve kisses the backs of Peggy’s hands and lifts her off the ground. “Come here, my love.”

Peggy giggles, “Darling, I have an agency to run.” She makes no move to escape his arms.

“Yes, and you can’t do it dead.” Steve eases into his chair, settling Peggy across his lap.

Sam groans and rolls her eyes.

“You, hush.” Steve jams a finger in Sam’s direction. He brushes his fingers through Peggy’s hair, prompting her to rest her head against his chest. “I won’t let you work yourself to death. Rest.”

“Just for a moment,” Peggy yawns.

Steve kisses the top of her head. “I’ll wake you up in an hour.”

“Dad, this is ridiculous.” Sam hovers in front of Steve’s desk. “She needs to go home.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in medical?” Steve raises an eyebrow and lowers his voice, sliding an arm around Peggy’s back to keep her close.

Sam shrugs, one shoulder trembling slightly. “I feel fine.”

Steve lifts the file in front of him. “Your handwriting tells a different story.”

Sam rubs her shoulder. “I’ll be alright.”

“Go.” Steve nods at her. “Shut the door quickly. Mom’s not allowed to sleep on the job.”

On her way out the door, Sam catches a glimpse of Peggy stirring and trying to stand up.

“Hey, what did I say?” Steve’s voice is firm as he pulls Peggy back in. “I’m not starting the clock until you fall asleep.”

Peggy curls against Steve and lets her eyes fall closed. Steve takes one of Howard’s ice packs from a drawer and crunches it in one hand before pressing it against his cheek. Sam slides out the door smiling softly.

* * *

“_You’re not eighteen, yet_,” Sam mocks, kicking the wall of the catering van. “_You’ll have to wait in the van.”_

Blackwell grabs Sam’s wrist before she can slam her fist against the table. “If you keep making noise, you’re going to blow our cover.”

“I shouldn’t be out here at all.” Sam paces the cargo area. “My dad just doesn’t think I can handle it in there. It’s bullshit.”

“The way you’re acting right now, I’d agree with him.”

Sam glowers at him. “And what does that mean?”

“He put you on the Quick Reaction Team.” Blackwell slides the headphones down around his neck.

“Yeah, backup.” Sam leans a shoulder against the cool metal.

“And you’re throwing a fit because you didn’t get what you wanted.”

“I’m throwing a fit because I’m just as capable as anyone in that building. I’m younger and blend in better. I’m all dressed up and everything.”

“Shut it.” Blackwell lifts one side of the headset to his ear. “Something’s happening.”

Sam climbs into the passenger seat. “Of course, it is.”

“Uh, Cap.” Blackwell’s voice filters over the team’s earpieces. “We got a problem.”

“What kind of problem,” Steve growls, rubbing a hand up his jaw to cover the movement of his lips. With no immediate response, Steve snaps, “Blackwell. Problem.”

Blackwell sighs. “Sam’s gone.”

Steve’s face pales. “Forget the mission. Someone get me eyes on Sam.”

Steve stands up from the bar, dropping a handful of cash at his seat. He scans the crowd, searching for Sam’s sleek, copper hair or tight sleeveless sweater. He surveys the ground, looking for her neon go-go boots. Standing to his full height, Steve makes his way across the bar room, eyes set on his target.

“Cap, stand down.” Reilly’s voice bursts into Steve’s ear as Reilly turns into the kitchen. “We don’t have the intel, yet.”

“Just evacuate the bar.” Steve ignores the command.

“We’re looking.” Markham, checking the bathrooms, breaks through Steve’s concentration. “Just wait two minutes. We’ll have her, and we can finish the mission.”

“Wasn’t there a third man when we walked in?” Steve locks eyes with Yuriev.

The sleeper agent smirks at Steve, tapping the side of his nose.

“Stick to the plan, Rogers.” This time Dugan barks out orders from a second van two blocks away. “Steve-”

“Find my fucking daughter.” Steve throws his earpiece to the side and stalks toward Yuriev. Though Yuriev quickly returned his attention to his guest, Steve’s gaze never leaves the table. As the crowd thins, Steve picks up his pace. The man across from Yuriev gives a nearly imperceptible nod, and a commotion breaks out in a back room.

Steve breaks into a sprint toward the table. Yuriev quickly pulls a submachine gun from under his table. Steve jerks his pistol from under his jacket and lunges toward Yuriev’s partner. Chaos erupts as the remaining patrons flee in terror.

Steve’s team swarms in from each corner. Blackwell, unable to break through the stampede, evacuates civilians through the front door. Dugan rushes through the back door. Steve grabs Yuriev’s VIP and pulls him into a chokehold. Yuriev calmly lays his pistol on the floor and holds his hands up, palms out. He sneers at Steve, and the door to a back-storeroom swings open.

A tall, heavily armed man, not much older than Sam, drags her out with an arm around her throat. Sam stumbles out, struggling weakly. She throws her head back, knocking her captor’s head back into the door. He shakes his long, dark hair out of his face and tightens his grip on Sam. She whines when he digs a dagger, one of many weapons strapped to his body, into her side.

The room falls silent. Steve clenches his jaw and tightens his grip around the mystery man’s arm. Sam’s face is coated in blood from a gash along her brow. The young man’s cheek is split open. Sam has red marks on both arms and bruises already forming around her wrists. Both her and the young man’s knuckles are bloody and swollen.

“I can assure you, Captain,” Yuriev speaks without even a hint of an accent, “if my associates and I do not exit this establishment freely, neither will the young lady.”

Sam claws at the thick arm across her neck, staring at Steve wide-eyed. Nothing but choked yelps escape her mouth.

Steve takes a deep breath, studying the room. His team far outnumbers Yuriev’s small envoy. Despite the bodyguard’s personal arsenal, Steve’s team also has the higher firepower.

“Please hurry, Captain.” Yuriev rubs his temples. “I grow weary of this indecision.”

They could have all three suspected KGB operatives in custody in minutes. All his team needs is the order. Steve should give it. He knows that. Everyone in the room knows it.

But there are some risks he can’t take. He releases Yuriev’s partner, throwing him to the ground.

“Stand down.” Steve snarls, “Get out before I change my mind.”

Yuriev gives a short command in Russian, and the guard advances toward the door, hauling Sam with him. She struggles, but he only lifts her off the ground, sliding his dagger back into its sheath on his back.

Steve jumps in his path. “She stays. That was the deal.”

“Terms have changed.” Yuriev waves his partner out the door. “And you’re out of bargaining chips.”

Steve turns on Yuriev, throwing him against the wall. When he catches a glimpse of movement from Markham, he repeats, “Stand down.”

Steve pulls Yuriev off his feet, pressing a pistol under his chin. “I said, she-”

A piercing scream splits the air. The arm around Sam’s throat has been replaced by a knife at the side of her neck, pressed deep enough to draw a steady stream of blood. The guard’s hand wraps around Sam’s face and tilts her chin up to expose her neck. Sam’s cheeks turn white under the pressure of his fingertips. The man’s expression is cold. Every one of his strong muscles are flexed, awaiting orders. He’d kill her without blinking.

Steve drops Yuriev to his feet.

He nods to the guard, who throws Sam over his shoulder and carries her out the front door.

“When I’m satisfied we’re not being tracked, I’ll let her go. I’m certain she can find her way back.”

“If she doesn’t-” Steve takes a menacing step forward.

“You’ll find me? Kill me? Slowly and in the most painful way possible? Don’t tease,” Yuriev scoffs, his lips twitching into a grimace. “Let me assure you, Captain, I can be equally horrific. Don’t follow.”

When the door closes behind Yuriev, Steve flips the nearest table and throws a chair over the bar with a guttural roar.

“Cap, you want me to tail them?”

“What?” Steve freezes. “No. Fuck. No one goes anywhere.”

Dugan approaches Steve slowly, laying a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be alright.”

Steve shrugs him off, throwing a fist into the wall. He jerks out a chair and sinks into it. His hands shake as he runs them through his hair.

“I have to tell Peg.”

“You want me to do it?” Dugan slides into the seat across from Steve. “Technically, you report to me.”

Steve chuckles, “Not your best idea.” He pulls his cell phone from his pocket and walks away.

Heavy silence fills the next five minutes. The only sound is the scraping of chairs as everyone takes a seat one by one. No one looks up when Steve rejoins the group.

“No, Peg. Trust me, we’re on the first flight home.” He ends the call and tosses his phone on the table before pulling up a chair. “She wants to fly out.”

Dugan chuckles, “Wants to fire me in person, probably.”

“You don’t have to go home with her.” Steve raises an eyebrow. “Unless?”

“Face the wrath of two women?” Dugan snorts. “Pass.”

Steve grins, “How’s Mirabelle?”

“Good. Still kicks my ass every now and then.”

Steve lets a laugh out through his nose, and the room falls silent once again. Dugan makes his way to the bar and pours a shot of whiskey.

“Hey!” Steve calls, “Either put it up or pay for it.”

Dugan wipes his mouth and drops a few bills on the counter. “That’s not what you said in Berlin.” He pours himself a beer.

“The barkeep was dead in Berlin.” Steve picks up a peanut from the bowl on the table and tosses it at the wall. He takes a handful of peanuts and begins tossing them one at a time.

The quiet clack of nuts against the wall and the slurp of Dugan’s beer are the only sounds in the whole building. If Dugan hadn’t alerted the local police of the mission beforehand, the place would be swarming with cops.

And Sam would be dead.

Steve clenches his fist, sending up a puff of peanut dust. He glances at his hand and lets the peanut pieces fall to the floor. She’ll be back any second.

Half an hour drags by before Blackwell’s voice cuts the silence. “Cap, I got movement out front.”

Steve is out the door before Blackwell can mention that the build matches Sam. He sprints up the street and meets the limping figure. He pulls her into a tight embrace.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Steve pushes her back and examines her face.

She wipes at the blood on her cheek and looks away, not saying a word.

Steve continues looking her over, skimming his fingers over wounds to gauge the severity. Several deep red bruises cross her arms and legs, defensive. Various cuts and scrapes, probably from being shoved out of a moving vehicle. The slash on her neck is easily the worst, though the stream of blood has eased to an ooze. It’s deep, deeper than Steve thought. No wonder she screamed like that.

Sam rubs her throat and winces as she says, “We need to talk.”

“You’re damn straight,” Steve scoffs, nostrils flaring.

They begin walking back when he glances at the team emerging from the bar. He jerks open the back door of the van and yells for Blackwell to get out.

“Get in the van,” he growls at Sam.

She swallows hard and steps inside, leaning against the door for support. She slumps into the bench seat along the side and looks up at Steve’s towering figure.

Steve stares her down. “It’s one thing not to obey me as a father, but this was a mission. You were given orders.”

“I was left behind because you were scared.”

“You were left behind,” he snarls, “because you have no idea what those people are capable of.”

Sam jumps to her feet. “I could have helped!”

“You could've died,” he roars back. “You could've gotten someone else killed. Do you think I want to bury my daughter? Do you think I want you to have the weight of another man’s death on your conscience? Or do you just think this is all fun and games?”

Sam opens her mouth, but Steve doesn’t relent. “Maybe you should be the one to knock on the front door and look in the eye of the woman who doesn’t even know she’s a widow while you tell her that the man she loves isn’t coming home. Maybe then you’d understand what’s at stake out here.” He takes a breath before continuing, “You’re off the team.”

“Dad!”

“Samantha Michelle Rogers. You. Are. Done.” He glares at her. “If your mother wants to take the risk of putting you on another team, that’s up to her. But you will not work for me again.”

“That’s not fair,” she pleads.

“A good soldier obeys orders. They were given for a good reason. And the person giving them is far more experienced than you.” He uncrosses his arms for the first time since they got in the van. “I've got two lifetimes of experience. You barely have one. My team has worked together for nearly a decade, and they proved their skills long before that. You are not the only one capable of doing a job, Samantha.”

Sam looks at her hands, massaging one of her palms. Steve swings the back door open and hops out. She can hear him discussing the new plan. She and Steve are taking the red eye back to New York. The team will stay here and salvage what they can.

She takes a deep breath, turning over a thought in her mind. The reason she wanted to talk with Steve to begin with. That man, Yuriev kept calling him the soldier. Something wasn’t right. “He was too strong.”

* * *

_Of course, love. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. _The last thing Peggy said to Sam before bed last night.

The world, it turns out, is the only thing Peggy would miss Sam’s graduation for.

“I’m sorry, Director. We can’t launch the chopper until this blizzard calms. We’ll have a very small window.”

“Notify me the moment that bird is in the air.” Peggy waits for confirmation and slams her phone back into its place.

A growl rumbles from deep in her chest as she slams the handset down over and over again. This mission should have been completed hours ago. She drags her hands through her hair and glances at the clock on her wall. At this point, she has a very small window of time to spare.

Unfortunately, this storm doesn’t appear to be breaking any time soon. And this mission can’t wait another day. If the KGB gets to that crash site before SHIELD does, the Cold War will not end well. She glares at a plastic “#1 Mom” trophy Sam had given her for Mother’s Day when she was barely three. Apparently, she had seen it at the store and insisted Steve buy it because no one else deserved it. Peggy snatches it from her desk and hurls it across her office.

“I fucking hate the Soviets,” she screams, sinking back into her seat.

A knock on her door is followed by Howard’s head peeking inside. “You alright, Peg?”

She huffs, “I assume I’m needed in the command room?”

“Ding, ding, ding.” Howard taps a finger on his nose. “Can’t do a thing without you.”

She rolls her eyes and follows him up the hall. “You should go. Maria will be worried you won’t make it.”

“Maria has probably had two anxiety attacks and sent Jarvis for more medication already,” Howard chuckles.

Peggy turns to him as the approach a heavy oak door. “Really, Howard. There’s no sense in both of us missing out.”

He nods, “You can’t let them-”

“I know.” She shakes her head. “Show no weakness.”

As Howard walks toward the elevator, she rolls her shoulders back and throws her weight against the door. “Gentleman, what exactly do I pay you for if I have to be in this room every moment of an operation?”

The room falls silent until Peggy cracks a grin. She takes a seat at the head of the conference table as laughter erupts around her. She allows the ruckus to die out naturally and continues, “Speaking honestly now, do we really believe I need to wait around for this storm to blow itself out?”

Quiet murmuring arises before an older agent, now mostly only a consultant, raises his voice. “Ma’am, I believe you’re quite aware that you’re the only one who can authorize an unsanctioned operation on the Russian border in the heat of this communist mess.”

She nods sharply. “Well, it was worth an ask.”

She spends the next two hours being briefed about their most promising opportunities to complete the recovery mission successfully. It won’t be easy and may not even be possible. She must determine how many lives the agency is willing to lose. Which, as it turns out, is far more than she personally is comfortable risking. Because missing her daughter’s final childhood milestone isn’t gut wrenching enough.

Peggy pinches the bridge of her nose and stands, raising a hand to silence the objections. “Gentlemen, this storm isn’t going anywhere. If you expect to keep me here all night, I’ll need a short break to brew a fresh pot of Earl Grey and handle a few things.”

A brand-new agent jumps to his feet in the back corner. “I can take care of it for you, ma’am. That’s why I’m here.”

She smirks. “Agent Anderson, yes?”

He nods.

“That won’t be necessary.” She motions around the room. “But if you’d all like to proceed with the briefing, you’re welcome to accompany me to the ladies’ room.” She raises her eyebrows at the silence. “No? If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was surrounded by prudes.”

With that, she leaves the room and stops in her office to retrieve a teapot before heading to the bathroom. She fills the pot and examines herself in the mirror. Dark circles, crow’s feet, red eyes, frazzled hair, dull skin, splitting migraine. Not that she could see that. Except for the starbursts of color creeping into the corners of her vision.

She splashes water on her face and smoothes her hair down. After a long breath, she takes the teapot and returns to her office. Looking at the clock again, she hangs her head. She sets the teapot on a hot plate and picks up her phone.

“Hey, beautiful.” Steve’s voice is nearly lost in the background noise.

“Hello, darling.” She gulps. “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

“I told her you would,” Steve answers cheerily.

Peggy furrows her brow. “Steve, I won’t. There’s just-”

“Yeah, of course I’ll save you a seat.” Steve replies before his voice gets quiet as he answers someone near him. “Hey, I got to go. Sam needs help carrying everything. I’ll see you soon.”

Sam’s distant “I love you" before the click breaks her. She drops her head into her hands. She shouldn’t be here, sobbing into her desk. Steve shouldn’t have to cover for her. Sam shouldn’t have to question it. This mission shouldn’t be dragging out. Mrs. Jarvis shouldn’t be doing Sam’s hair. Tony shouldn’t be the first one to congratulate Sam. Bucky shouldn’t be sitting next to Steve at dinner. Howard shouldn’t be out-parenting her.

She shouldn’t be here.

The screech of her teapot pulls her from her spiral. She stands and pours herself a mug of tea, adding a hint of sugar. With a slow breath, she straightens her skirt and squares her shoulders. The command room awaits.

Peggy trudges up the sidewalk to the front door. The house is dark and quiet. Sam and Steve would have been home for roughly four hours now. The mission was a success, at least. Only two casualties, neither fatal. So far, there’s no indication that the Soviets even know they were there. But they will soon enough.

Hearing voices inside, Peggy opens the door slowly. The television is the only light in the room. Sam offers an exhausted smile from the couch.

“I wanted to stay up for you.”

Peggy’s breath hitches. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Sam nods slowly. “Do you want to see my diploma?”

Peggy turns to lock the door, hiding her trembling lip. “I’d love to.”

Sam stands and walks to her room. Peggy drops onto the couch, watching Sam stagger down the hallway.

It’s a good thing they only had one. She only would’ve mucked it up all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really looking forward to your feedback so far! I've started working on the next work for this series (no, I haven't finished writing this one yet), so your feedback will help me steer the next installation :)


	16. In the Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished the chapter. If you read the first part already, I didn't change any of that.

Sam throws her fists into the punching bag in quick succession, a single braid bouncing on her mostly bare back. She bounces away and shoves the ball of her foot into the bag, swinging it back with ease. The movement is easy in her spandex shorts; the SHIELD issued ones always ride up. She jumps forward with a few more punches, then turns her back, driving an elbow into the leather. A sheen of sweat covers her body. A dark, damp splotch spreads down the center of her sports bra.

Flashes of The Soldier’s toes race through her mind, the sound of her breath struggling to squeeze past his arm. She drives away the searing pain of his knife through her flesh with a roundhouse kick. The crunch of her ribs under his fist is drowned by her bruised forearm colliding with the punching bag again and again. She reminds herself the sting in her eyes is from sweat, not blood, and pauses for a water break.

Next time she sees him, she’ll be ready.

She glances to the corner of the gym where her weights still rest on the floor. She should do another set before the rest of the team shows up, but she’s already sore from yesterday. She takes a deep breath and reracks the weights. Chugging the rest of her water, she makes her way to the locker room. She runs the hot water in the shower while she gathers her towel and clothes. When steam leaks out from behind the shower curtain, Sam slides under the water, letting the stream massage her aching back. The heat loosens her muscles and relaxes her mind.

She stands in the shower, turning to spread the heat evenly. She lets her thoughts drift, lost in the soothing relief of the warm water. She wished Tony hadn’t signed up for summer semester. Their cross country trip was fantastic, but she had hoped to spend more time together. Though, she’s not sure what else they possibly could have done. They pretty much covered everything by the end of their month long trip.

She giggles and bites her lip, remembering the night they spent at the Grand Canyon. Yeah, pretty much everything.

The locker room door clangs open, jarring Sam back to reality.

“You know, love,” Peggy’s heels click on the concrete until she stops near the showers, “we bought you a car so you wouldn’t have to come in so early.”

Sam rolls her shoulders and squeezes soap into her hand. So much for a quiet moment. “I wanted to get a workout in.”

“Are you sure that’s all that’s on your mind?” Peggy knows Steve’s refusal to take Sam back on his team hit her pretty hard.

“You know what they’re going to say,” Sam groans. “I shouldn’t have taken the team lead position.”

“You aced every exam and combat assessment you were given.” Peggy’s tone, as usual, is matter of fact.

Sam allows a smile to pass quickly across her face. “I know that, and you know that. No one else will believe it.”

Peggy sighs, “I’m certain you can handle it, love.”

Sam nods to herself. Of course she could. She’s spent her entire life proving herself. Just once, though, she wishes she didn’t have to.

She shuts the water off reluctantly and jerks her towel from the hook. She needs to be ready when her team shows up. Sore or not, it’s time to go. She pulls on her black cargo pants and grey shirt. Throwing the curtain open, she jumps when she sees Peggy perched on the bench along the wall.

“Jesus, Mom. Don’t you have somewhere more important to be?”

“Than with my daughter?” She tilts her head. “Absolutely not.”

Sam chuckles, taking a seat beside Peggy while she laces her boots. “You’re full of it.”

Peggy drops her cool, Director façade and smiles. Her face radiates a vitality that Sam hasn’t seen in months. “I just wanted to see you before you start your first day.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom.” She stands and buckles a thick belt around her waist. “Are you going to help me move into my apartment after work.”

Her smile drops, and the glow in her skin fades. “I can’t, love. I have a board meeting.” She hasn’t done her makeup yet. The lines between her eyebrows are readily apparent. They seem to etch themselves deeper with every night spent reading reports instead of sleeping.

“Dad will be more than enough help.” Sam shrugs. “It’ll be a surprise the first time you visit.”

Peggy closes her eyes and takes a breath. “I would love nothing more than to spend time with you after work every day. But…” She lets the thought hang.

Sam nods. “Thanks for coming down here.”

She towels off her braid, and Peggy stands to her feet. Peggy’s lips twitch as she looks Sam over. The life slowly returns to Peggy’s skin.

“Good luck, my love.” She kisses Sam’s forehead before leaving the locker room.

Sam takes a deep breath and tosses her gym clothes back into her duffel bag. It can’t be that bad. They’re agents. Professionals.

Sam slams Steve’s door shut, storming into his office. She slumps into the chair across from his desk and drops her head into her hands.

He raises his eyebrows. “That bad?”

“They won’t listen to a word I say,” she whines.

He nods. “Then, it’s time to change your approach. What have you tried?”

Sam groans, “You remember that ‘good agent’ talk you gave me once?”

“Oh, god.” Steve shakes his head. “You should not have done that.”

Sam chuckles, “No, I should not.”

“Sam, your team has been doing this longer than you have.”

“Not really.” She shrugs. “I worked with Uncle Bucky all through high school and you for almost a year.”

“Baby, they don’t know that,” he sighs. “And they don’t really care. You need to earn their respect.”

She chews on her bottom lip, nodding slowly. “Thanks, Dad.”

His eyebrows knit together as she leaves. “Yeah, baby. Anytime.”

Sam hurries across the floor, weaving through desks, and races up the stairs. She bursts through the Director’s door, earning a disapproving glare from Peggy.

“You’re a fulltime agent now. You don’t get the privilege of barging into my office unannounced.”

Sam closes the door behind her. “I need a mission.”

“You understand this is your first day?”

“Mom, please,” she begs. “I need to show them I can lead.”

“Love, you have plenty of experience.”

Sam huffs, “That doesn’t matter. They don’t trust me because I’m young.”

“You need to build a rapport before your team goes into the field.”

“Please,” Sam pleads again, “Tony still has the suit. He can help.”

Peggy raises an eyebrow. “You want me to send a civilian on a mission?”

“Just something small. We’ll be fine.”

“Very well,” Peggy sighs. “I’ll have a word with Ops Planning.”

Sam smiles triumphantly, thanking Peggy before she leaves. After making herself a cup of coffee, she takes her team to the gym for combat training. She watches them spar with and without weapons, then runs them through a teambuilding obstacle course. They throw her dirty looks and make comments they think she can’t hear.

If she weren’t so sore, she’d step in and show them a thing or two. It’s probably for the best.

They’re good agents. Well-trained and competent. They seem to work together well. Their skills aren’t necessarily complementary, probably inexperience. She’ll have them running on autopilot in no time.

She receives a mission assignment the next day along with dirty looks from the Operations team. Apparently _everyone_ assumes she’s getting special treatment. Clearly, they don’t know the Director.

“You can provide backup on this mission.” Agent Hill, according to his nametag, hands her a file. “Nothing unusually difficult, but we’ve had some surprises on similar missions recently. Better safe than sorry.”

Sam flips open the file and nods. Bringing in two KGB sleepers.

“There’s a briefing scheduled for ten forty-five in conference room three, you probably should sit in.”

Sam nods and turns to leave, throwing her thanks over her shoulder. She continues back to the bullpen and fills in her team. She gives them an hour to train however they want and be back after the briefing. Sam calls Tony to ask for his help. He eagerly agrees and promises to come in at the end of the week for a full mission briefing.

Sam steps into the conference room and turns to see Steve sitting at the head of the table.

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.” Sam drops into a chair at the other end of the table.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not happy about it either.”

“Alright, listen up.” Agent Hill enters the room and pins a set of blueprints to the wall. “We believe the targets have been using this abandoned warehouse as a base of operations. Cap, your team will be primary infiltration.”

He glances at Sam. “Your team is strictly backup. You are to stay concealed until Captain Rogers requests assistance.”

She locks her jaw, but nods.

“And I understand you intend to bring a civilian with you?”

“I do.” Again, she nods.

Steve’s eyebrows go up.

“He is to stay outside unless absolutely necessary.” Hill’s stony expression leaves no room for discussion.

Sam listens to the rest of the plan, taking notes as necessary. Steve’s Alpha Team will take lead, obviously. Sam’s Bravo Team will follow on their heals and set up defensive positions in the rear. Alpha Team will recover intelligence and attempt to apprehend the targets. She tunes out the finer details of his plan. All she needs to know is that she stays put until shit hits the fan.

When Hill is done briefing, Sam scurries out the door before Steve can start a conversation. He’s not happy about Tony. She’s not changing her mind. There’s no discussion to have.

Sam spends the rest of the week training her team in the gym and fielding dirty looks from other agents. Her job should not be this difficult. She shouldn’t have to prove yourself to anyone.

Yet, here she is. Crammed into an office providing over watch on an incredibly dull mission.

“Bravo Team, fall back.” Steve’s voice rings in Sam’s ear.

“Hold fast, Bravo.” She groans, pulling a handheld radio from her belt. The rest of the team doesn’t need to be looped in. “Dad, this is our job.”

“Something’s not right. It’s too quiet.” He whispers back.

She smirks, “Yeah, well, we’ve got your back. Like it or not.”

She crouches in what appears to have been an office on the second floor glancing down the hall at the rest of her team. Agent Flint peeks out of the office on the opposite end of the hall where he’s holed up with Preston. On the first floor, Callahan is perched behind a half wall near the entrance. Hayes patrols the third floor catwalk. Tony, of course, is camped out in the parking lot, and he’s not happy about it.

Sam sits silently through twenty minutes of relentless banter, from both teams. She follows the mission progression closely, ignoring the rest. When Steve notes that they’ve cleared most of the building, Sam climbs to her feet.

“Cap’s got it from here. Pack it up, Bravo.” As grateful as she is that this didn’t go sideways, it’s not exactly the leadership opportunity she’d been hoping for.

She makes her way down the stairs and waves Callahan out the door. Following a brief disagreement that Sam couldn’t quite make out, Preston glides down the steps. She avoids Sam’s gaze as she skirts by.

Sam waits five more minutes before calling over her earpiece, “Flint, Hayes, where are you?” With no response, she growls, “Preston, where’s Flint?”

Another silence. “If someone doesn’t answer me, I’d better find you all unconscious or you bloody will be.”

“They went after Cap.” Preston’s soft voice breaks through.

“For the love of Christ.” Sam takes off up the stairs. “Flint, Hayes, fall back. If someone spots you, you’ll blow the whole bloody thing!”

“Listen, kid, we know what we’re doing.” Flint’s raspy voice answers back.

“Sam?” Steve’s scolding tone makes Sam jump.

She sprints up two more flights of stairs to the fourth floor. “I’m handling it.”

She scans the rooms as she walks across the floor. The first and fourth floors are the only closed levels. Except for a few offices, the second and third floors are open to the work area on the ground level. The fourth floor is full of offices and cubicles, and Sam has to clear each one.

A quiet scuffle catches her attention. She drops to a knee behind a cubicle wall. “Tony, fourth floor, southwest corner. Could use some help.”

She advances toward the noise, hauling Flint to his feet by the collar. She claps a hand over his mouth to muffle his surprise. He turns to face her whispering harshly about getting in the way.

“Cap, I got movement. North corridor, second floor.” Blackwell chimes.

Flint pushes into Sam, knocking her back a step. She shoves him back, digging her fingers into his collar. With another hard shove, he’s tumbling out the hole that once was a window.

She turns and continues back toward the edge of the office space. “Tony?”

“I got him.” He laughs back. “Pretty risky though.”

Sam smirks. “Hayes, last chance. Stand down.”

She stalks through the cubicles and throws open the door at the end of a hall. Instead of turning down the stairs, she opens the door on her right and emerges on a catwalk. Steve’s team moves stealthily across the concrete floor three stories below. Their formation is tight, the chatter minimal, they’ve found something. Hayes is going to muck it up.

She scans the rest of the open space below with no sight of him. She groans and leans against the hand rail, dropping her head. A flash of movement directly under her draws a silent chuckle. What luck.

She vaults over the rail and swings onto the third floor catwalk, landing behind Hayes. He turns at the sound of her landing, squaring his shoulders. When he lunges at her, she sidesteps, grabbing his wrist. She twists his arm behind him, forcing him to bend at the waist.

If she'd been paying attention, she would have noticed the radio silence.

She shoves Hayes away. As he stumbles to the ground, a ripple of shockwaves tears through the building. Each one builds off the last, shaking the warehouse to its foundation. They move faster than sound, crashing into Sam and Hayes before they know what's happening. Hayes topples sideways, slamming into a vertical pole supporting the handrail. Sam is thrown backwards. Her hips hit the handrail, and she flips over the edge.

When the walls steady, shouts erupt from the ground floor. What the hell was that? Someone got away. What happened to Bravo Team? Sam, status check. Sam? Bravo, status. Sam!

The voices swirl around Sam's head. She doesn't dare open her eyes yet. She's already nauseous and can’t handle a spinning room at the moment. Everything aches- not surprising, since she probably fell forty feet. She reaches up to rub her head, but her arm catches on something cold. She opens her eyes as she hears footsteps approach.

“Fuck.” The word gets stuck in her throat. She slams her eyes shut. That was a terrible idea. The image of bloody rebar jutting out of her upper chest is burned into her eyelids.

She landed on some kind of large concrete platform. Whether it had crumbled over the years or never been completed is impossible to tell. Her hips are wedged between two pieces of rebar, apparently having narrowly missed being impaled again. The twist in her spine puts more strain on her chest wound.

“Sam!” Reilly is the first to find her. “Fucking shit.”

She wiggles, trying adjust herself, and realizes the whistling sound is coming from her. Short, ragged, wheezing gasps.

“Steve!” Reilly’s voice echoes through the empty warehouse. He mumbles to himself. “Of course Barnes isn’t here. Be too easy.”

Heavy footfalls race into the room. Sam pushes weakly against the bar, taking a deep breath. She’s thrown immediately into a violent coughing fit. Her eyes flutter open, catching glimpses of blood splattered on the concrete in front of her face.

“Get it out.”

Shouts of “no” come from every direction. Steve squats beside her and traces his fingers around her hairline.

“No, baby. I can’t do that.”

“I- I can’t- brea-” The words can barely be heard over her gasping. “Can’t breathe.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He looks her over and returns his attention to her face. “It’s going to be okay. I just need to think a minute.”

She nods, closing her eyes. The quiet murmurs of Steve’s team fade into the background. From what she can gather, she’s not in great shape. Sweating, blue lips, definitely punctured a lung. Another hacking cough draws attention back to her.

“Hey, baby.” Steve taps her cheek. “Open your eyes.”

She cracks one eye with excessive effort. “Tired,” she pants.

“Just stay awake until we get you on a medevac, okay?” He waits for an affirmation. “I just got to figure out how to get you out of here without making it worse.” He pulls at the bar.

Sam groans and takes a jagged breath. “Tony.”

Hurt covers his face. “Yeah, he’s outside. You can see him soon.” Steve scans the room for tools.

“Tony.” She shakes her head. “Suit.”

Steve’s eyes dart back to Sam’s. “Tony, you ever tried welding with that suit?”

“That’s about all I use it for anymore.”

“Daddy,” Sam untangles her arms from the bars and holds out a hand. An ache spreads steadily across her chest. “It hurts.” Her throat closes as her eyes fill. She chokes back sobs, but can’t stop the tears from falling. The tighter her chest gets, the more erratic her breathing becomes until she’s gasping loudly, and blood gurgles out of the wound.

“I need you to calm down.” Steve squeezes her hand. “You’re going to pass out if you keep breathing like that.” He takes an exaggerated breath, jostling her hand.

An indication for her to follow. She tries. Half a breath later, she’s coughing up more blood. Defeated, she returns to gulping in as much air as she can get.

“Can I- please go- sleep?”

“No, baby.” Steve’s voice is tight. “Not yet.”

The clack of metal alerts her to Tony’s presence. “You look like a fish.”

She smiles up at him. Ironic. This is exactly how she imagines drowning feels. She lets her eyes fall closed when Steve looks away. Most of the next three minutes blur together.

Steve’s hands lift under her shoulders. Tony says, “It’ll burn your hands. Grab your shield.” Something cold presses into her back and lifts her off the concrete slightly. Several hands hold her still. She doesn’t understand why she’s not allowed to move.

Oh, the shield. That’s what’s under her. Comments about her pale skin circulate the group. Then warm lips press into her cheek.

She can feel the heat from Tony’s suit against her back. When he stopped going on missions, he modified the gauntlet for use in the lab. She’s seen him use it before. The index fingers can produce a small, concentrated flame, hot enough to melt titanium.

She scrunches her face as sweat drips down her temples. Holding back a groan, she turns her head to the side. Heat climbs up the steel, searing her skin. She lets out a squeal. Steve’s cursing is drowned out by more coughing. The heat sends jabs of stabbing pain out from the rebar. Sam’s whimpers get quiet and Steve’s voice fades out. Her heart races, pounding against her rib cage.

“Tony, can you…”

A white haze encroaches on her vision until she’s pitched into darkness. The last thing she feels is a heavy hand under her chin.

“…stabilized…”

Sam takes a labored breath and feels someone pull away from her face. Tony shouts about her eyes opening. That explains the flashing lights. She stops trying to open her eyes and rests in the steady embrace of whoever just scooped her up.

“Stay with us.”

She can’t place the voice, but grunts in response. The first step sends a jolt through her body. She gasps in pain, coughing into, presumably, Steve’s chest. Her head spins, and the sounds around her fade.

A loud mechanical whir fills Sam’s ears. Something cool tickles her nose. When she tries to rub it, her hand is pressed back against her stomach. She squints her eyes open, trying to place the voices around her. One, two, three large, blurry figures hover over her.

“O2 levels…” A woman's voice drowns out the engine.

A man answers, saying something about a dressing, and Sam becomes aware of the tightness around her shoulder.

“…did CPR.”

Sam turns her head toward the voice, but her neck won’t move. Something stiff under her chin keeps her still. “Dad?”

She can’t tell if she actually made a sound, but pressure on her left shoulder lets her know Steve’s there. She takes a deep breath, instantly coughing it back up. The spasm is exhausting. She can’t reopen her eyes.

“Steve!” A voice tinged with hysteria grows louder.

_Mom_. Sam opens her eyes lazily. Everything hurts less. It’s easier to move, and she can think more clearly. She groans as the medics lift the litter out of the helicopter. She tugs at the tube running under her nose. It tickles.

“She’s going to be fine.” Steve and Peggy jog on either side of Sam.

“Oh, love.” Peggy rubs Sam’s left arm. “Leave it alone. You can’t breathe on your own.”

Sam drops her hand and tries to nod. A neck brace restricts her movements. Her neck felt fine at the warehouse.

“They just need to close it up.” Steve glances at Peggy.

As they enter the med bay, Steve and Peggy are replaced by a swarm of doctors. Sam’s oxygen tube is replaced by a face mask. Her eyelids droop, and she pushes the mask away.

A doctor presses her hand into her side and replaces the mask. Sam’s eyes grow heavier by the second. She focuses on her other senses. It smells sterile. Her heart rate slows to a calmer rhythm. The erratic beeps fade, and the steady jostling eases her back into unconsciousness.

Sam pinches her eyebrows together before cracking an eye open. The light stings her eyes. She rubs her head and feels tugging at her shoulder. Working her left hand across her chest, she feels a bandage wrapped around her torso and shoulder. She looks down to see small specks of blood seeping through near her armpit.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

Sam turns to Peggy before glancing around the room. “Where’s Dad?” Her voice is hoarse.

“Better, then.” Peggy smiles from her chair against the wall.

Sam glares at her, acknowledging Peggy’s tactical redirection.

Peggy sighs, “You’ve been under for quit some time. Just rest a moment.”

“Dad,” Sam pants.

“He waited with us the entire time you were in surgery. It took nearly two hours.”

“Us?” Sam leans her head against the pillows, breathing shallowly. “My team- stayed?” It was clear they didn’t care much for her.

“Your father didn’t give them much choice.” Peggy shakes her head. “When they brought you out, he took them all into the next room.”

Sam groans, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “How- long?” She slides the oxygen tube over her head and drops it on the bed.

“About twenty minutes ago.” Peggy jumps to her feet. “Love, please be careful.”

Sam pushes Peggy away, easing to her feet. Pain shoots up her left leg, and she falls back to the bed. She tugs down the waistband of the black, SHIELD-issued sweatpants. She’d never voice her gratefulness that Peggy had insisted against hospital gowns in the facility, except for patients in critical condition.

Sam’s fingers skim over the bandage wrapped around her thigh. “What happened?”

Peggy studies Sam’s face. “Don’t you remember?”

“Falling.” Sam nods. “And-” She reaches under the matching SHIELD robe and runs her hand across her chest, fingers catching on a tube in her ribs.

“You hit your hip too.” Peggy nods.

Sam shakes her head. “No, it missed. I saw it.”

“The force knocked your hips out of the way, but the rebar still took out a chunk of muscle. Your arms got banged up too.”

Sam stares at the floor, trying to remember. Everything hurt when she fell. It’s a plausible explanation. Explains how her hips got wedged so tightly between the metal pieces. And why her back was twisted so unnaturally.

Sam braces herself and stands again. She pushes past Peggy, limping to the next room. By the time she walks through the door, she’s out of breath.

“You’ll both be suspended pending an investigation.” Steve glares at Hayes and Flint. Preston and Callahan lean against the wall in the corner, apparently having already suffered through a lecture. Tony stands proudly next Steve, the same expression on their faces. Tight lips, locked jaw, bulging veins.

“No- you won’t.” Sam leans against the doorway and wraps an arm across her chest, supporting her weight on the right leg.

Steve whirls around. His eyes scan Sam as if he can’t decide whether to yell at her for leaving bed or contradicting him. Tony darts to the door, wrapping an arm around her waist. Sam pushes him away and takes a few steps around the edge of the room, leaning on the wall.

“You could have killed me,” Flint cries.

“Next time I say- fall back,” Sam growls. “Fall- the fuck- back.”

“Sam,” Steve finally locates his Dad voice.

“They answer to me.” Sam musters all her energy to keep from gasping. “If you have a complaint, that goes through me.”

“Sam, they could have gotten someone killed.”

She nods. “They will be dealt with. There will be no investigation.”

Peggy stops a nurse at the door, watching intently. “Just give her a moment.”

Steve continues to debate. Sam holds her ground. The tension in the room is palpable.

“You are not- in my chain of command. If you disagree with- my judgement- our supervisors can talk.” She stares Steve down, standing to her full height.

Peggy breaks the heavy silence. “Now, love, set a good example and follow orders. Back to bed. ”

“Is she a mother or the Director?” Preston mumbles to Callahan.

Peggy shoots a glare over her shoulder. “I can wear two hats.” She waves Sam over. “Come on, then. Bed.”

Sam sways as she turns, prompting Tony to step back in. He wraps his arm carefully around her waist and pulls her into his side, supporting most of her weight. He walks her back to her bed, surprised by her compliance.

Flint makes a comment about nepotism as they leave, which is followed closely by a loud thud against the wall shared by both rooms.

“I’m talking to you as a commander,” Steve growls. “If you want to speak to me as a father, I highly suggest you take my sidearm first.”

Sam’s exhausted. Her entire leg aches, and it feels like someone is stabbing her thigh. Standing took a lot out of her, not to mention the speech she gave. Panting, she lays back against her pillows.

Tony lifts her legs onto the bed and sits beside her. “You know, I agree with your dad.”

“I don’t-” she gasps, “Recall- asking you.”

“Babe, look at yourself.”

Sam smirks. “I don’t- have to. I feel- like- shit.”

He chuckles. “Promise you won’t let them off easy?”

“Fuck-” She lets out a quiet cough. “No.”

Tony grins, dropping his forehead to hers. “You had me worried today.”

“What else- is new?” Sam tips her head back to meet his lips.

Peggy enters silently through the open door. “Oh, enough. You’re at work.” She swats the back of Tony’s head before taking her seat against the wall.

Rubbing his head, Tony twists around to recline next to Sam. He slides an arm behind her shoulders and takes her hand in his.

“When can I go home?” Sam’s voice fades to whisper at the end.

Peggy shrugs. “Get through the night, and we’ll talk about when your father and I can bring you home.”

Sam narrows her eyes. “To my apartment.”

Steve snorts as he enters. “Absolutely not. You can’t be left alone.”

“Well, I can stay with her.” A wrinkle creeps across Tony’s forehead. He certainly has no intention of leaving her like this

“You have to go back to school.” Steve shakes his head.

“Actually, I’m going to be in town all week using dad’s lab.”

Steve folds his arms across his chest, looking back to Sam. “You’ve barely been there a week. Half your things are still packed up.”

“I can unpack while she rests.” Tony rolls his shoulders back.

“You know she’s not going to rest,” Steve spits out.

Tony smirks. “With all due respect, Steve, she follows my orders better than yours.”

Steve lets out a growl, advancing toward Tony. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re a genius, but I-”

“Enough.” Peggy steps between them. “Sam will come home with us. She needs-”

“Excuse me.” Sam waves. “Hi, remember me? I’m a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions?”

Everyone looks away.

“I’m going to my apartment with Tony. Trust me,” she coughs, flecks of blood tingeing the sheets, “I have no desire to do anything exciting.”

“Sam,” Steve takes a step toward her.

“Dad, I’m an adult.” Sam raises her eyebrows, daring him to disagree. “I’m going home. If I need help , I’ll call Mr. Jarvis.”

Peggy smiles, “That’s reasonable.”

“Now,” Sam tilts her head, “don’t you two have work to do?”

“Not really.” Steve shrugs. “One of my agents is injured. This is my job.”

“Nice try.” Sam shakes her head. “I’m not your agent.”

Peggy snickers, “Come on, darling. She’s kicking us out.”

“Yeah,” Steve glares at Sam, “I know.”

“We are so proud of you, love.” Peggy kisses Sam’s forehead before leading Steve out.

After they leave, Tony looks at Sam. “You know, you really cut it close there.”

“Tony,” she closes her eyes “I don’t-”

“I almost had to break up with you.”

Sam’s eyes fly open. “What?” she coughs.

He runs his hand down her right shoulder, his thumb grazing the bloody spot on her pectoral muscle. “You almost ruined your biggest assets.”

Sam bursts into choked laughter. Nurses rush into the room at the sound of her alarming oximeter. Tony jumps out of the way. They give her an oxygen mask and try to calm her down. Tony snickers in there corner, watching Sam glare at him.

When Sam gets her breathing under control, and the nurses leave, Tony ambles back to the bed.

“You're an ass,” she mumbles.

“You love me.” He grins. His smile fades as he studies her face. “Don’t do that again.”

“You take the fun- out of everything.”

“Sam, I mean it. You could have died today.”

Sam smiles, taking his hand. “Do you know- how many times I could've- died by now?”

“No, I mean really.” Here looks absently at her hand. “If you'd been alone, your team wouldn't have been able to save you.”

“It would have been fine.” Sam squeezes his hand.

“They're not good enough, Sam.” He shakes his head. “Your dad's team, they didn't even blink. They fanned out and found you right away. You were panicking, and they calmed you down. Stabilized the bar and kept you from hurting yourself. Your dad knew how to do CPR without making it worse. And I had to-” He swallows hard. “You’re lucky it punched between your ribs, only a small fracture from the impact. You were in a pool of blood, Sam. A lot. And your hip- It wasn’t clean. It was- and it smelled like- have you ever been to a butcher shop?”

She watches him squeeze his eyes shut, realizing he’s never even seen a bullet hole. When she'd been injured during their missions in high school, he had usually been knocked unconscious. “Tony,” she runs her thumb over his jaw, “I’m okay.”

He looks up at her. “This time.”

“I will be careful. I promise.”

He shakes his head. “Just don't expect too much from your team. They're not ready.”

She leans into him. “You're right.”

Monday morning, Sam meets her team in the gym. Leaning against the wall, she looks around the semicircle.

“Taking you on that mission was a mistake.” Her breathing comes easier now. If she doesn’t move too much, she can talk with only a few breaks. “You need more training.”

She glances at the doors on the far end. “Since I’m out of commission for a while, you’ll be working with one of my trainers.”

Sam smirks at her team’s muttering when Bucky walks in.

“I hope you don’t expect me to go easy on them after that.” He motions to her shoulder.

“I expect you to train them.” She smiles. “Whatever that takes.”

* * *

Sam grins as she arranges bottles of various liquor on the table.

“I mean it,” Tony groans. “If your dad finds out I let you throw a party, I’m dead.”

“It’s been a week, Tony. I’m fine.”

“Oh, so you’re not still on pain meds for the cracked rib and punctured lung?” He crosses his arms.

“So, I won’t drink so much. It’ll go fine.” She chuckles, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You know, now that I can breathe again, we can start putting some things back on the table.”

“Oh?” Tony combs a strand of hair out of Sam’s face and kisses her softly. “Maybe with only one lung, I’ll actually be able to keep up with you.”

Sam bites her lip and traces her fingers over Tony’s chest. “If you’ve been struggling this whole time, I’m not sure I’m ready for you to keep up.”

“Oh, babe.” Tony’s eyes go dark as a growl rumbles in his chest. “Now, you’re in for it.”

He bends down, nipping at Sam’s neck. She takes a jagged breath, raking her nails across Tony’s scalp. A knock on the front door is followed quickly by Danny announcing himself.

“Goddamn it, Daniel,” Sam yells.

“You said you needed help with set up.” Danny walks into the kitchen with bags of snack foods.

Tony drags a hand down his face. “You’re never on time.”

“I’m always on time,” Danny snickers.

Sam shoots him the bird and begins setting out chips and dip.

“I like your place. Real homey.” Danny wanders through the living room.

“Tell Tony,” Sam giggles. “He did everything while I slept.”

“My little Anthony’s growing up.” Danny dodges the spoon Tony hurls at him.

With Danny’s help, they finish setting up in an hour, with Sam nagging them at every turn. When they finish, Danny looks around in approval. Sam grabs Tony by the wrist and drags him to the stairs.

“Make yourself at home, Danny,” she calls over her shoulder, veering into the first door at the top of the stairs. The moment Sam closes her bedroom door, she shoves Tony onto the bed.

“Easy, babe,” he chuckles. “You’re still way stronger than me.”

Sam’s eyes glint as she crawls up the bed. “Then maybe you should take charge, love.”

Tony’s lips twitch. “You ought to know by now that I’m not a bedroom kind of guy.”

“But Danny,” your voice trails off.

“I think,” Tony slides off the bed and opens her closet, “you should shower and change for the party.”

He holds out the shortest dress she owns, and a grin spreads across her face. Tony urges her down the hall and into the bathroom. Sam turns on the hot water and wraps herself around Tony, kissing up one side of his neck and down the other. She slides her hands under his shirt, wasting no time peeling it off.

She nips along his jaw and tips her head back for him to return the favor. When he brings his lips back to hers, she runs her fingers through his hair. She parts his lips with her tongue. He tugs at her bottom lip and lets his hands slide up and down her curves.

“Two weeks,” he laughs against her lips, lifting the hem of her shirt, “too much for you?”

Sam moans into his mouth, pressing herself against his body. “I hate when you’re at school for one week.”

“Well, then,” he pins her wrists to the wall and gives a devilish grin, “you should get in the shower.”

He traces his free hand down her bare stomach and looks at her bra, clicking his tongue. “You can’t get in the shower like this?” He reaches around and unhooks her bra, releasing her hands just long enough to slide it off.

“Tony,” she gasps throwing her head against the wall.

Again, he slides his free hand down her ribs and over her waist. He pushes her skirt to the ground and runs a hand over the corset underneath. “You should not be wearing this with those ribs.”

“Let me go,” she pants, steam stabbing at her throat, “and I’ll take it off so fast.”

“I don’t know,” he rubs his jaw, “maybe I should do it and take my time with every. Single. Hook.” He traces a finger down her stomach.

“Tony, please.” She struggles to control the whine in her voice. “Please, just let me.”

“Oh,” his rough voice rumbles from deep in his chest, “I like that.”

“Please, Tony.” She lets the desperation flood into her voice, adding gasps for effect. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”

He leans forward, slamming his lips into hers, and releases her wrists. They both fumble with the remainder of their clothing, desperate for more bare skin. Sam bites at Tony’s lip, and he pulls away.

“Get in the fucking shower,” he snarls.

Tony’s ankle snags the side of the tub as Sam drags him in with her. They both topple to the ground with a heavy thud.

By the time they make it back downstairs, the party is in full swing. Sam turns every head in the room when she walks down in her neon blue, sleeveless mini-dress, matching boots, and purple stockings. Her normally straightened hair hangs in waves past her shoulders, pushed back with a wide, purple headband. She smiles around the room as Tony presses a kiss behind her ear.

“I’m invisible,” he chuckles, taking her hand.

She grins at him, teasing, “No, baby, just a little blurry.”

“How did I fall in love with such an asshole?”

Sam makes an exaggerated gasp. “Mr. Stark!”

He turns, grabbing Sam’s hips. He pins her to the wall, boxing her in with his arms, and brushes his lips against hers. “You know how much I like that.”

“What?” She runs her tongue over her teeth. “You didn’t get enough?”

“Oh, honey,” he smirks, “I’m only getting started.”

Sam groans, pulling Tony’s face to hers. His hands quickly travel down her body, teasing at the hem of her skirt. Her hands dance over the nape of his neck and down his side, her teeth scraping through Tony’s stubble. Tony nips under her jaw before pushing himself away and nodding toward the party.

Sam takes a breath and agrees, looping her arm through Tony’s. Together, they proceed to the kitchen. Sam pours herself a shot, but Tony takes it for her, passing her a beer.

“You’re on painkillers already.”

She sneers at Tony, taking a drink of her beer. “Danny, the place looks great.”

“No thanks to you two.” He scowls back. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he scans the room over her shoulder, “I’d like to find someone to disappear with.”

You roll your eyes as Danny leaves. Tony looks around her apartment and pinches his eyebrows together. “So, who is everybody?”

“You’ve only been gone a semester and you forgot?” You laugh, nudging Tony with your hip. “Most of them went to school with us.”

He glances around. “Clark. Donna. Nick.” He nods as he sees faces he recognizes. “Brent.”

“Yeah,” she presses the bottle to her lips, “some guys from MIT came up. And Ollie’s in town. He may come over for a bit.”

“And everyone else just showed up?” He turns to you, drinking his own beer.

She shrugs, “Everyone else just showed up.”

Tony grins as Nick approaches and claps a hand on his shoulder. Nick asks about MIT and college parties. Tony doesn’t plan to join a fraternity, but Howard will certainly insist on it. Sam talks eagerly about their cross-country trip before excusing herself to talk to Donna.

“Tony won’t let me drink anything else,” Sam jeers.

“Since when do you do what Tony tells you?” Donna holds out a shot toward Sam.

Sam looks over her shoulder and finds Tony distracted catching up with half the soccer team. She grins at Donna and takes the shot. Tapping her glass to Donna’s, she downs the liquor quickly. “That’s really it. Beer the rest of the night.”

Sam listens intently to the story of Donna’s summer and her college plans, hoping the conversation doesn’t turn to her own plans. When it inevitably does, Sam spouts out the cover story Peggy came up with. Sam is spending the summer traveling the country and expanding her horizons. She volunteers with various organizations and takes time to practice her art. Sam promises to show Donna her sketches some other time and turns to mix with other guests. As she meanders from group to group, she polishes off her beer and takes a new one from the fridge. As she opens it, she turns around, crashing into Clark’s chest.

“Whoa,” he pushes her back, checking her over, “sorry, Rogers.”

She shakes her arm, flinging droplets of beer on the carpet, and frowns at the stain on her dress. “I’m sure it’ll wash out.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I brought this, then.” He holds out a plastic cup.

Sam stares at it and shakes her head. “I already did a shot. Tony will be mad.”

“Come on, he’s not your boss,” Clark mocks. “Do you even have a buzz right now?”

Sam looks at the empty bottle in her hand, chewing on her lip. “I didn’t even finish my second one, yet.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Got it. You’re a lightweight now.”

Sam sets her jaw. “Not even close.” She takes the cup from Clark’s hand and gulps down a long drink. That ought to get a buzz going.

She runs through the same conversation with Clark. He has a soccer scholarship to NYU. Sam’s story stays the same. As Tony approaches, Sam shoves the cup back into Clark’s hand. Tony hands you a fresh beer with a grin.

“Hey, babe, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You follow him to the corner where he introduces you to a tall redhead.

“You look like a Marilyn.” Sam grins a little too wide. “How do you know Tony?”

“Oh, we sit together in Physics.” She rubs a hand up Tony’s bicep. “He is so sweet. I was out sick last week, so he brought notes to my dorm.”

Sam’s lip twitches. He certainly has a type. “He’s something alright.”

“He talks so much about you. I can’t believe you’re traveling the country making art. That sounds so much more exciting than converting potential energy to kinetic.”

“You wouldn’t believe the kind of people I’ve met.” Sam laughs, throwing Tony a sideways glare. “Funny. He’s never mentioned you.”

“Oh, well, you know how forgetful he can be.” Marilyn tussles Tony’s hair. “I’ve actually bought a pen special for him after he asked to borrow mine every day the first week in class.”

“It seems he’s forgotten a few _more important _things since he left home.” Sam grits her teeth, turning to Tony. “I’m just glad he hasn’t bothered you for anything more than a pen,” she lets out a nearly natural sounding giggle.

Marilyn lets out a high-pitched peel of laughter, leaning into Tony’s side. “Well, I make sure to bring enough supplies for us both when we have all-nighters at his place.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam locks eyes with Tony. “I should really go mingle. It was great to meet you, Melissa.”

“Oh, it’s Mar-”

Sam turns her back and hurries out the door to the patio. She takes a deep breath, leaning into the rail. The cool air pricks at the back of her throat and lungs. The door squeals open behind you.

“Sam,” Tony creeps up beside her.

Sam stares out into the darkness, waiting for his apology.

“What the hell was that?”

“Excuse me?” Sam snaps. “You pulled me aside to introduce your school crush, and you’re upset with _me_?”

“I thought you’d like her. She reminds me of you.”

Sam scoffs, “She better if you’re converting energy with her all night.”

“It’s just homework,” Tony sighs.

“I’m not stupid, Tony.” Sam snarls. “I know what kinetic energy is.”

“Well, you were a complete bitch to her.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “You’re not forgetful.”

He takes a step back. “What?”

“Or unprepared.” Sam’s eyes soften. “You wanted an excuse to talk to her.”

“Sam, she’s really smart. I thought you’d get along.”

Sam licks her lips and nods. “No denial, then?”

“Of course, that wasn’t it.” Tony stammers, “I shouldn’t have to defend myself.”

“I agree.” Sam takes a long drink, resting her forearms on the rail.

He lets out a huff, kicking an empty bottle on the wood floor. “How many times do I have to tell you I love you before you trust me?” He stares at Sam, waiting for her to say something else.

She stares silently at the tree line. If it was nothing, he should have told her. She should have known if he was spending hours studying alone with another woman. She should have known if he was making house calls to her dorm. Sam should have at least known her fucking name.

“Okay, then,” he sighs. “Guess we’ll just talk later.”

Sam lifts her bottle to her lips and watches Tony leave. After he shuts the door and walks away, Sam throws her bottle down. It shatters across the railing, splashing the remainder of her drink across the wall and floor. Sam makes her way inside and finds Clark, taking the cup from his hand and finishing his drink.

“Easy,” he takes the empty cup and peers into the bottom. “If Tony thinks-”

“Fuck Tony,” Sam snarls. “Get me a drink.”

Clark chuckles, “Well, alright then.”

Sam’s glare burns holes through Tony’s back as he flirts with Marilyn. His laugh rings over the din of the crowd, his head thrown back, and hand settled on his stomach. She leans into him, gasping for air. Fucking Marilyn.

“So, what happened?” Clark leads Sam to the couch.

Tony’s hand slides over the small of her back. “Fucker.” Sam tips her cup up.

Clark follows her gaze. “Holy shit. What happened?”

Swishing the vodka around her mouth, Sam swallows the burn. “Don’t know. _I _just met her.”

“Damn,” Clark whispers, watching Sam drain her cup. “Yeah, let me refill that for you.”

Sam blinks hard, head buzzing. Her medication must be stronger than she thought. She’ll go slower with this one. Donna sits down next to Sam and starts a conversation about Michael. Karen got in touch with him, but he wanted nothing to do with her.

Sam snickers, “Serves her whore ass right.”

“What’d I miss?” Clark holds Sam’s drink out to her. “Did Tony dump her already?”

Donna’s eyes widen. Her head whips around trying to catch sight of Tony. “What the hell?”

“Thanks.” Sam glares at Clark. “That’s Tony’s Physics partner.”

“Sure it’s not-”

“Don’t say chemistry.” Sam rolls her eyes at Donna and takes a drink.

Donna raises her hands with a chuckle. “Well, looks like he’s been studying more than light waves with her.”

“Don’t want to talk about it.” Sam lifts her cup to her lips, but the shake in her hands reminds her to slow down. “Tell me more about Michael. How’s he doing?”

Clark grunts, finishing his sip. “What’s he up to?”

Donna explains that Michael was accepted into Columbia University where he plans to study pre-law. He wants to go into Family Law when he’s done with school. Sam struggles to focus on the story and excuses herself to the bathroom.

She sways with each step as the room begins to spin. She presses a hand into her throbbing head, sending her stumbling into the wall.

“Hey, Sam,” Nick’s voice catches Sam’s attention as he tips her chin up to examine her face, “you alright?”

She opens her mouth, but her tongue is too heavy to speak. She nods and drags herself to the bathroom, bending over the toilet.

“Hey,” Nick yells, disappearing around the corner.

Sam grabs her stomach, resting her head on the seat of the toilet. Her stomach lurches and another convulsion tears through her shoulders. Sweat beads on her face as the sounds of the party blur together. Sam struggles to keep her eyes open and lift her head. Everything moves too quickly. Someone pulls her off the floor, and she feels herself slump between two men. Bleary-eyed, she can’t open her eyes long enough to identify them.

“’mfine,” she groans, slurring her words. “Wh’r’sTony?”

Her head swims trying to decipher the answer. She rolls her head to the other side, barely keeping her feet underneath her. “N’To- D’t.”

On the patio, Tony sits across from Danny, cigar smoldering in his hand. “Do you think it’s inappropriate?”

Danny blows out a puff of smoke. “You should’ve told her. You talk often enough.”

“I don’t tell her about any of my other classmates.” Tony stares at the chipped paint on the railing.

“You’re not going to trip and fall and accidentally fuck one of _them_.”

“I’m not going to do that to Marilyn either.” Tony glares at Danny, bringing the cigar to his mouth.

Danny chuckles. “You get my point.”

The door screeches open and Danny holds out a cigar.

“Ollie,” Tony grins. “Sam said you’d be coming by.”

Oliver turns down the cigar and leans against the rail, looking at Tony. “What happened with you and Sam?”

“She got mad about this girl in one of my classes.”

Danny groans, “That’s not the whole story, and you know it.”

“Apparently, I behaved inappropriately.” Tony stares down at his cigar.

“Go figure,” Ollie laughs. “So, who’s this new guy of hers?”

Danny squints his eyes, lip twitching up.

Tony’s head snaps up. “The hell are you talking about?”

“She was heading upstairs with somebody when I came in.” Ollie shrugs. “Drunk off her ass, by the looks of it.”

Tony darts out of his seat and hauls the door open.

“Hey,” Ollie grabs Tony’s shoulder, “think it through. Do you really want to walk in on that?”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Tony growls.

“You pissed her off flirting with this girl,” Danny reasons. “Tony, if she drank too much-”

“She wouldn’t.” Tony races through the living room, yelling, “Sam!”

“Tony,” Oliver pushes through groups of partygoers. “These idiots can’t force her into anything.”

“She’s on a shit ton of narcotics for broken ribs.” Tony spins around at the bottom of the stairs. “I told her not to drink hard liquor, but she probably threw everything I said out a window.”

“Go.” Ollie’s nostrils flare as he shoves the other two up the stairs.

Tony bounds ahead, leaping over steps and landing heavily on the second floor. He rattles the locked doorknob and turns to Ollie. “You’re a firefighter. Bust it down.”

Ollie snorts, “I generally have an axe or something.” He takes a step back, pressing his arms into the wall and kicks. The door shudders, and Ollie doubles over, holding his knee. “Fuck. Steve reinforced the goddamn thing, didn’t he?”

Tony throws a fist into the wall, startling Danny. “My gear’s in her closet.”

“Ollie, you’re stronger than us.” Danny pulls Tony away from the door. “They had to teach you something.”

“I need something heavy to use as-”

Tony pushes them aside, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He removes his driver’s license and drops the wallet on the floor. “If I can just-” He slides the card between the door and the frame. “Danny, jiggle the doorknob.”

In less than a minute, the door swings open. Tony dashes in, body slamming the silhouette by the edge of the bed into the wall. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of the bedroom, he begins to discern facial features.

“Clark?” Tony’s grip eases. “What ha-”

“What did you give her?” Ollie yells, shoving Clark back to the wall. “I swear to God.”

Tony stumbles sideways, turning to Sam. “Hey, baby.” He combs his fingers through her hair. “Wake up, Sam. Please.”

She lies motionless in the middle of her bed. He taps her cheeks and wiggles her hands, but there’s no response. Noticing tears at the collar, he scans over Sam’s dress. He hadn’t paid any attention to her disheveled appearance when they came in. She’s heavy, it was probably a struggle to get her on the bed. She seemed fine. Seeing her boots thrown on the floor beside her bed, Tony’s blood boils. His hands skims against a soft fabric at the foot of the bed. 

The skirt gathered at her hips, the way she laid sprawled across the bed, pantyhose in heap in the corner of her bed. None of it was an accident. But it’s Clark. The locked door. The locked fucking door.

“You dirty son of a bitch.” Tony stalks across the room, pushing Ollie aside with enough force to knock him to the floor. He slams Clark into the wall and leans his weight into the forearm across Clark’s throat. “She trusted you.”

“She trusted you,” Clark coughs.

Tony pulls back enough to let Clark breathe. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing she didn’t want.” Clark grins, tongue darting over his teeth.

“No, I know her.” Tony grits his teeth, rage bleeding out of his pores. His nostrils flare as wide as his pupils.

“We all knew you’d break her heart and leave her behind.” Clark’s eyes darken. “It was only a matter of time before she came looking for comfort.”

Tony steps forward, closing the space between them. The clink of a belt buckle draws Tony’s attention. He glances down and scoffs. “You didn’t do shit.” Tony meets Clark’s eyes with a derisive snort. “What happened, huh? You went to all that trouble to get her alone and you choked? Couldn’t even get your belt undone.”

“Ollie,” Danny calls from the bed.

Oliver rushes over whispering orders, “Turn her over, quick. Get that pillow.”

Clark shoves Tony’s chest. Tony leans into Clark, crushing his throat. “Or maybe, you just couldn’t get it up.”

Clark’s face tightens. “You don’t know,” he chokes, “shit.”

“I think we have a winner.” Tony grimaces. “She didn’t want shit from you except maybe a drink. It’s not as easy when they’re not willing, is it?”

“Tony, she have a first aid kit?”

Ollie’s voice pulls Tony’s focus to Sam. “Med kit. Under the-”

Clark throws a hook into Tony’s gut and makes a run for the door. Danny grabs him by the collar and throws him to the floor.

“Bathroom sink,” Tony groans, clutching his side.

As Tony catches his breath, Ollie lifts Sam over his back and carries her to the bathroom.

Tony stands over Clark. “Your _dysfunction_ may have saved your life.” Tony hauls Clark to his feet and wraps a hand around his neck. Tony leans in, imposing into Clark’s space. Every muscle in his body trembles, blood flowing hot. “If you so much as breathed on her, I would’ve let Steve deal with you.” He throws Clark back, his head smashing into the wall. “But as it stands, I think I’ll spare myself the lecture.” Tony leans into Clarks chest. “Danny, lock the door.”

Rage burns in Tony’s eyes as he steps away, giving Clark room to defend himself. Danny flanks Clark, blocking his path to the door. Tony clenches his fists, facial muscles twitching and nods to Danny.

After Tony is satisfied that Clark learned a lesson, he and Danny let him limp out of the room. The party downstairs dispersed quickly hen Ollie threatened to call the cops about drug abuse. Ollie can’t wake Sam, but believes she’ll be fine to sleep it off. He patches up the minor injuries Tony and Danny received from Clark and leads them all back to Sam’s room. He, Tony, and Danny take shifts watching Sam sleep to make sure she doesn’t stop breathing.

Tony drops his book when he feels movement beside him. “Sam?”

She groans and turn to her side. Tony lets out a breath and drops his shoulders. He can feel the knots working through his muscles. “Sam, babe. Please wake up.”

She pushes him away, mumbling.

Tony shakes her gently. “Please open your eyes.”

“What?” Sam rolls over, squinting her eyes open. “Why are you even awake so early?”

“Thank God.” Tony drops back, laying on the bed beside her. “What do you remember about last night?”

Sam groans. “I still remember Melanie, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Mari- you know what, not important.” He runs his thumb over her cheek. “You really scared us.”

Sam pinches her eyebrows together and shakes her head. “Who’s us?”

“Ollie and Danny are on the couch downstairs.” Tony takes a deep breath. “You were drugged last night. We don’t know what.”

“Tony, what are you talking about?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Tony presses.

Sam shrugs. “Donna was telling with me and Clark about Michael, and I left to go to the bathroom.”

“After that?”

“I-” Sam looks down and takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t know. Nothing.”

Tony groans and sits up, pulling Sam with him. He turns sideways to face her and searches her eyes. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

“Clark-” Tony looks away. “He-” He takes a breath and looks in her eyes. “Sam, he tried to rape you.”

Sam’s breathing hitches. “No, he wouldn’t”

“I know.” He shakes his head. “I trusted him too.”

“What happened?” Sam breathes.

“Nothing.” Tony rubs her arms. “Nothing, baby. We would never let that happen. Ollie saw you as soon as Clark brought you upstairs.”

Sam looks down at her hands in her lap, noticing the tear in her stockings. She sticks her finger into the hole and takes a deep breath. “Did he-”

“He didn’t do anything except get you on your bed.” Tony tips her chin up. “I would never let anyone hurt you.”

Sam nods slowly, hands starting to shake. “Tony,” her voice shakes as she leans into him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He wraps an arm around her. “Ollie took care of you. Me and Danny took care of Clark. He won’t bother you again.”

She nods, tears bleeding into Tony’s chest. “I don’t even remember.”

“I know, baby.” He kisses the top of her head. “I know.”

She wraps her arms around Tony’s waist, pulling herself in to absorb his heat. He feels like home. His scent eases her mind and soothes her aching muscles. She flashes back the night after her run-in with The Soldier. Tony held her all night. Just like this. His hands pressing into her back, keeping her near. His lips brushing peacefully over her cheek.

Heat flares up her neck, cheeks burning red. She can’t tear herself away. Her brain won’t let her leave the security of Tony’s embrace.


	17. The Mantle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Another idea took me by storm, so I've been working the last several months on that.  
This basically just what I had before I got sidetracked. It hasn't been thoroughly proofed or anything. I'll get back to work on this story and add more soon, promise!

Hello, love.” Sam smiles, pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple. “Sorry it’s late.”  
“No, baby.” His voice is groggy. “I’m just glad you made it back safe.”  
She drops her backpack in the corner and peels off her mud stiffened clothing. “Quick shower and I’ll be right back. Promise.”  
He grunts, turning over to shield himself from the hall light. He had only just dozed off when she came in. The last week at school had been tough. His project with Howard had taken a rough turn at the end, and he had to present his findings. He’d spent the whole week running numbers and trying to figure out exactly what went wrong. With Sam back in the field the last three days, he couldn’t focus on anything else.   
As Tony begins drifting off, Sam flops onto the bed next to him. With a jolt, Tony wakes up and turns over, wrapping his arms around her. “How was your mission?”  
“Typical. Exhausting,” she yawns, snuggling back against his chest.  
“I missed you,” he groans, kissing the back of her head.  
Sam’s eyes fall closed. “I missed you, too.”  
“Nothing exciting, then?” He tightens his grip, pulling Sam as close as he can.  
“No, not really. Just some more intel.” She breathes in deep, curling against him. “Mom says she has some news for me, though.”  
“Great.” Tony rolls his eyes.  
“Mom is very deliberate with her assignments.” She shrugs.   
“Just,” he kisses behind her ear, “please be careful.”  
Sam grins over her shoulder. “Always.”  
Despite her late night, Sam gets up at her normal time to get a workout in before her team arrives. Peggy spent so much time nagging Sam about coming in too early, Sam finally gave in and told Peggy the truth. There are people out there stronger than Sam and faster, and they’re not all on her side. Ever since, Peggy has been meeting Sam in the gym every morning. She may not be a match for Sam anymore, but she can certainly still train. Lifting techniques, bag routines, grappling tactics, everything she picked up over her extensive career.  
“So,” Sam grunts lowering into another push-up, “what’s this news?”  
“If you can talk, maybe I should start wearing my vest.” Peggy grins from her perch between Sam’s shoulders.  
Sam rolls her eyes. “You said it’s good.”  
“Yes,” Peggy licks her finger and turns a page on the report in her hand. She has a briefing first thing this morning, otherwise she would be working Sam through a combatives exercise. “You’ll find out soon.”  
“Come on, Mom.” Sam tosses a scowl over her shoulder. “I can’t work without all the information.”  
“You’ll do what you’re told.” Peggy purses her lips and raises her eyebrows. “And I’m serious, my love. Do I need to grab a few dumbbells?”  
“No,” Sam mutters, “you’re plenty heavy enough.”  
Peggy swats the side of Sam’s head. “Your father never complained about this exercise.”  
“Yeah,” Sam smirks to herself, “I’m sure the showgirls loved this little trick. I mean, Dad could probably do two of them at once.”  
Paper crumples in Peggy’s fist. She locks her jaw and grits her teeth, taking a long breath. “He never cared much for their frivolity.”  
“I suppose your particular brand was more appealing,” Sam snorts.  
“I wore clothes,” Peggy sneers. “And I didn’t prance around a stage for the entertainment of –”  
Sam twists quickly, dumping Peggy on the concrete floor. “I don’t believe you.”  
Peggy groans, gathering her papers off the floor. “What?”  
“That was their job.” Sam snatches her water bottle from the bleachers. “They did what they were told so they could be independent women.”  
“Oh, rubbish.” Peggy stands, brushing herself off. “They were in show business.”  
“I’m sure there was more to them than that.” Sam lifts an eyebrow. “I’m sure quite a few of them had dreams of something greater.”  
“They were more than happy performing their little dance,” Peggy bites with barely concealed animosity.  
“Dad's always been a great listener.” Sam taps her chin. “I bet he’d know. I mean, five months on the road and a trip overseas, they probably talked about everything.”  
“Samantha,” Peggy tucks her folder under her arm, “that is enough.”  
Sam grins, wiping her face with her shirt. “Yes ma’am.”  
“You’re not cute.”  
“Sure, Mom,” Sam watches Peggy step into the elevator and turn around. “And you’re not jealous.”  
After her shower, Sam heads upstairs to meet her team for the morning. After the last mission, they deserved an easy day. But with the new Academy graduates starting today, everyone not in the field is expected to be on hand. She’ll give the team a long lunch to make up for it.  
As she steps off the elevator, she sees a few of the team leaders milling about the bullpen. She beelines for the break room to make a cup of coffee. Sam opens the door and finds Steve with a tall, African American man about her age.  
“Captain,” she nods.  
“Hey, baby.” Steve grins, “This is Nick. He’s fresh out of the Academy.”  
Sam holds her hand out, gripping Nick’s firmly. “Congratulations, Agent.”  
“Agent Rogers, you’re somewhat of a legend at the Academy.” His lips curl up into a smile. “My class was visiting a couple weeks ago when you went off on Agent Douglas.”  
Sam blushes under Steve’s glare. “Well, I discipline my own team. Even the Head of Operations needs reminding of the chain of command on occasion.”  
“It was a rather impressive display.” He fills his coffee cup and steps aside. “Your team is lucky.”  
The corner of Sam’s lips twitches up. “See, Dad, someone appreciates me.”  
“Don’t get cocky, kid.” Steve takes his coffee and heads to the door. “I need to talk with you later.”  
She gives a mock salute and watches him leave. “Alright, listen up.” You spin around to face Nick. “I need help with a little – heist.”  
Nick sets his coffee down and raises his eyebrows. “I’m listening.”  
She leans in, talking softly. “My parents are hiding something from me, and I need to know what.”  
“Your parents, as in-”  
“Yes,” she rolls her eyes, “now, will you help me or not?”  
A smirk tugs at his lips. “I’m not sure that’s door you want to knock on.”  
“If you’re afraid of the Director, fine. But don’t pin it on me.”  
“No, I’m in.” His smirk broadens to a grin. “Just don’t blame me if you stumble into their secret sex life.”  
“That has never been a secret,” she groans, leading him out of the break room. “I just need an extra set of eyes.”  
They make their way across the bullpen to the stairs. Sam makes a show of tour-guiding him through the facility as a cover.   
When they enter Peggy’s office, Nick turns to Sam. “What are we doing?”  
“You’re keeping watch,” Sam whispers, shuffling around Peggy’s desk. “I’m looking for a file.”  
He nods and moves to the window overlooking the bullpen.   
Sam slides Peggy’s briefcase out from under the desk and sorts through folders and loose papers inside, mumbling curses as she flips through pages of useless information. After the briefcase, she moves to the drawers, letting out a slightly louder swear when she slices open her finger with a paper cut. Even to Sam’s hyper-sensitive ears the only sound is the shuffling of papers and adrenaline-fueled breathing from Nick.   
“Director’s in the elevator,” Nick says dropping the blinds.  
Sam glances at her watch with a huff. “Shit, she’s early.”  
As she cleans up her mess, a folder in the center of Peggy’s desk catches her eye. Scolding herself for not checking the obvious first, Sam snatches the file off the desk and skims it over, her eyes widening.  
Sam looks up just as Peggy’s door swings open, and Nick jumps back.  
Peggy raises her eyebrows and clears her throat, eyes darting between the two intruders.  
“Dad’s retiring?”  
Peggy’s attention snaps to Sam, taken aback. As quickly as it faded, Peggy’s resolve returns, targeting Nick. “And you are?”  
“Fury, ma’am,” he answers without hesitation. “Nick Fury.”  
“And I suppose my daughter dragged you into this mess?” She arches an eyebrow.  
To his credit, Fury lasts nearly a full minute under Peggy’s glare before cracking. He nods reluctantly, shrugging his shoulders at Sam apologetically.  
Peggy takes a deep breath and steps to the side, rubbing her brow. “Then, I suggest you leave before I decide to remember your name.”  
Sam waits for Peggy to swing the door shut and presses again, “Dad’s retiring?”  
Peggy’s shoulders droop with a huff. “We had planned to discuss this with you at length over dinner tonight, but I suppose now is just as fine.”  
Sam looks away, drawing her lip between her teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“He wanted to surprise you,” Peggy sighs dropping onto her couch. “Love, this is not the life he ever wanted.”  
“This is all he’s ever done.” Sam shakes her head with an absent smile.  
“Yes, but he never truly wanted it.” Peggy slips her heels off and massages her calves. “Even when he enlisted, it was for the other men. Then, with the serum, he couldn’t ever bring himself to leave. Until we had you.”  
Sam’s head snaps up.  
A faint smile ghosts Peggy’s lips, her eyes half downcast, lost in a distant haze. “He started talk of it the moment you learned to toddle. Couldn’t stomach the thought of you getting into something by accident.” She breathes out a subdued laugh. “He drove Edwin positively mad checking in on you. You were nearly four when he finally left the agency to raise you full time. I’ve never seen him happier than when he was home with you, teaching you to draw and cook and pester James. And I’ve never seen him more devastated than the first time you asked him to drop you off up the block from your friends. He was utterly-”   
Peggy clears her throat, glancing up to Sam’s soft smile. “My point is, love, that is all he ever really wanted. You, me, home together.”  
“Then why did he come back to SHIELD?” Sam sits back in Peggy’s chair.  
“You got older. You didn’t need him anymore, but the world still did.” Peggy stands and crosses to her desk, waving Sam out of her seat. “Try and act surprised at dinner.” She taps Sam under the chin before taking the seat behind her desk.  
Sam stops short of the door and faces Peggy. “What is the surprise?”  
“He would give his life to keep you safe. But, my love, he’d give the world to make you happy.” Peggy chuckles, “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not telling you.”  
Sam nods thoughtfully as she reaches for the doorknob. “Can Tony come to dinner?”  
“I don’t see why not.” Peggy takes a folder from her drawer and lays it open on her desk. “Check with your father.”  
When Steve opens the front door for dinner, he beams at Sam, wrapping her in a hug and ushering her through the door. “Stark.” He gives a sharp nod.  
“Mr. Rogers,” Tony walks through the door, “thanks for inviting me.”  
“I didn’t.” Steve shuts the door behind them.  
Sam smacks Steve’s arm. “Be nice, Dad.”  
“When he stops sleeping in your bed.” Steve narrows his eyes at Tony.   
“Dad, please.” Sam rolls her eyes. “It’s not the sleeping you have a problem with anyway.”  
Tony’s face pales.  
“Fair enough.” Steve grits his teeth and claps Tony on the shoulder. “Sleep away.”  
When Sam walks away, Tony smirks at Steve. “I sleep very well.”  
“Sam may not let me kill you, but I can still lay you on your ass.” Steve’s lips pull into a snarl before he follows Sam. “I think we ought to discuss some rules of bringing guests.”  
“Steve,” Peggy glares as they enter the kitchen, “if you ever want a grandchild, you’re going to have to get over this.”  
“Jesus, Peg.” Steve drags a hand down his face. “We’re not discussing anything of the sort for at least five more years.”  
“We are not ready for that.” Sam agrees, and helps Peggy set the table. “Please don’t jinx us.”  
The dinner conversation revolves mostly around Sam's day at work, despite how boring it was. Sam taunts Peggy with the way she talked about Steve’s girls earlier. Peggy insists they were not his girls. Sam continues harping on Peggy’s jealousy for the remainder of the meal. Steve barely says a word, leaving Peggy to bear the weight of entertaining. After dinner, Steve makes coffee as everyone settles in the living room.  
“This is a conversation I was hoping to have with the family.” Steve glares at Tony.  
Sam pats Tony’s knee, softly. “Dad, don’t you think it’s time to accept that Tony’s part of the family?”  
“No,” Steve says flatly. “I’m holding out hope that he’ll screw it up.”  
“You’re hoping he’ll break my heart?” Sam pinches her eyebrows together.   
“You’re young,” Steve sighs. “You don’t know what you want yet. Either of you.”  
“I know I want to –”   
“Tony,” Steve cuts his eyes between the kids as Peggy emerges from the kitchen, “things change. You don’t know anything.”  
“What he means, love, is your life up to this point has been very much the same.” Peggy perches on the arm of Steve’s chair, rubbing a hand down his back. “You’ve lived in this house all your life. You’ve had the same friends for years. You have no idea what the real world is like.”  
Sam scoffs, glancing at Tony and back to her parents. “I speak more languages than Dad and have seen more of the world than most people twice my age.”  
“This is what I was talking about,” Steve mutters to Peggy and rolls his eyes at Sam. “You have had a structured routine every day of your life. When things went wrong, you still got went to school, went to soccer, and came home, then snuck out Uncle Bucky.” He pauses briefly, adding bitterly, “And sometimes Tony.”  
“You’re certainly more cultured than your peers.” Peggy smirks. “But that’s not what we mean.”  
“Sam, you’ve never had to worry about anyone else – make the call on who goes where,” Steve sighs. “You’ve never had to decide if you should stay late to finish a report or go home and have dinner with Tony or hit the gym for the workout you’ve skipped for three days. You haven’t explored other cultures or seen from another perspective.”  
“The more of the world you see,” Peggy interrupts softly, “the more of yourself you’ll find.”  
“Mom,” Sam shakes her head, “stop. What does any of this have to do with Dad retiring?”  
Steve’s eyes cut to Peggy before he takes a deep breath. “Life is hard enough when every day doesn’t revolve around life and death situations.”  
Sam’s eyebrows knit together and she glances to Tony for answers. He only shrugs his shoulders in response. When se returns her attention to Steve, he continues.  
“Baby, I just want you to be sure this is what you want.”  
Sam smiles softly and takes Tony’s hand. “Dad, this is what I’ve been training for my whole life. And if there’s anyone prepared to stand beside me through it, it’s Tony.”  
Steve nods. “You already know I’m retiring, somehow. But the world still needs Captain America.”  
“I don’t –” Sam’s eyes fall closed.  
Tony tilts his head, squinting. “Are you offering –”  
“The shield.” Steve stands to leave and returns with a large, round leather case. “It’s yours if you want it.”  
Sam stares open-mouthed at Steve, her gaze slowly shifting to her mother. “I can’t- I’m not ready for – That’s –”  
“Baby, you’re brilliant and strong, and you scare the hell out of me.” Steve chuckles raising his eyebrows. “Which probably means you’re doing something right. You’ve trained for this your whole life.”  
“Dad,” Sam breathes, “are you sure?”  
“All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.” Steve’s face goes stern. “If this isn’t what you want, don’t take it. I mean it.”  
“Oh, cut it out.” Sam shoves Steve’s shoulder gently as she pulls the shield from its case. “Mom, what do you think?”  
Peggy smiles softly, taking in the sight. Sam stands nearly as tall as Steve with the same strong jawline, and Peggy’s dimples peeking out. Sam lifts the shield as if it were weightless. Although Peggy knows firsthand it’s far from that. Sam shows it off to Tony and grins back to Peggy.  
“It’s a much better fit than the last time I saw you with it.” Peggy’s eyes sparkle with memories. “That’s not a toy, love. Or a trophy.”  
“I know. I know,” Sam huffs. “I heard it my entire childhood.”  
“You’ll do great.” Tony grins broadly and presses a kiss into Sam’s cheek.   
She smiles back weakly, and Tony tips her chin up. “Sam, what’s wrong?”  
“I just –” she sets her jaw and continues, “I don’t want the fame, Mom. I don’t want to make PSAs or appear before Congress or have my face on posters.”  
“All we want is for you to be happy.” Peggy lets out a breath. “You don’t have to –”  
“No, I want the shield.” Sam smiles. “I don’t want the politics.”  
Everyone stares thoughtfully at Sam, eyebrows pulling together. Steve’s arms cross over his chest as he bites at his thumbnail. Tony’s eyes shoot to Peggy who nods at the floor.  
Sam quirks an eyebrow at Steve. “I mean, Cap hasn’t been on a real mission since – what, at least since SHIELD was made.”  
Steve’s tongue darts across his lips. “Since we dismantled Hydra, shortly after the war.”  
“What’s your point?” Peggy presses her fingertips into her forehead. “It’s been a very long day.”  
“Dad should retire publicly and take Cap with him. End the publicity stunt – or keep it up. I don’t care.” Sam glances around the room. “I’ll take over on covert operations. Remind those Soviet bastards that Captain America is a force to be reckoned with.”  
Steve smirks. “Every time I think you’ve done your worst, you give me another stomach ulcer.”  
Sam tosses her head back with a cackle as Peggy agrees with Steve. Tony’s hand tightens around Sam’s pulling her closer. He presses his lips into the hinge of her jaw, murmuring his support for her idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback?


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